


To Fear a Werehog

by TheClarityOrganism, TheEnigmaMachine



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sonic World Adventure | Sonic Unleashed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 70,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClarityOrganism/pseuds/TheClarityOrganism, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEnigmaMachine/pseuds/TheEnigmaMachine
Summary: Sonic the Hedgehog has always been the fastest thing alive—that is, until one encounter with Dr. Eggman changes everything.Now permanently transformed into a werehog, it looks like the evil doctor may finally have the upper hand. Sonic can't even remember how he got away.Even the sun can't change him back, and Sonic feels like he has nothing left—his speed is gone, he keeps drifting into some sort of uncontrollable, feral trance, and why would the public trust him like this?Things get even weirder when Metal Sonic shows up. Sonic doesn't know who to trust any more, but even if his former copy has ulterior motives, he finds Metal becoming the only one who truly understands him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's here! The collaboration between Enigma and I, which was promised at the end of Iron Oxide! This was an interesting one that went through MONTHS of considerations and brainstorming, but it's finally ready to be released!
> 
> Updates will be on the 1st and 15th of each month.

 

 

Sonic stood at the edge of the strip mine. The sun was bright and bold, signaling high noon, and swarms of robots dug in the sunken ground of Mazuri below. It didn't take Tails to know that Eggman was up to no good, and considering Tails was off in Mazuri's village, tending to other important research that Sonic didn't understand a word of, that was a good thing. Sonic wouldn't need Tails for this anyway.

Judging by how deep the mine ran, Eggman had been here for a while. After all, the doctor wasn't exactly subtle about the whole mining operation, and no matter how hot it got out here, there was no way Sonic was going to take this lying down.

He jumped down and curled into a spindash, ricocheting off of a good dozen robots. As the robots fell, Sonic sped over to one and confidently placed a foot on its back.

"Don't suppose Eggy got a permit for this, hm?" he asked, smirking.

A single Egg Fighter stumbled in front of Sonic, sending a shower of tiny pebbles skidding down the ledge. It jerked backward, emitting a single, low, tone and raised an enormous iron mallet above its head.

Eggman's voice radiated deep from inside the robot. "And I don't suppose you got a permit for  _destroying my private property_ , rodent!"

Sonic placed his hands on his hips, pouting at the Egg Fighter.

"You expect  _me_  to be polite when you can't even insult me in person?" He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I thought you were better than that, Egghead."

The Egg Fighter's only response was to lunge forward and swing the mallet at Sonic.

Sonic stepped back. The mallet slammed the ground in front of him.

" _And—_ your robots are  _way_  slow. That too."

The pebbles on the ground began to tremble. A distant roar, like running water, began to hum deeper into the mine. It was gradual at first, consistent, yet building, louder and louder until—

A stampede of Egg Fighters turned the corner, rushing toward Sonic in a tight phalex.

"You're mine now, hedgehog!"

Sonic rolled his eyes but smiled, getting into a fighting stance. "I thought this was  _your_  mine?"

He snickered. Licking his lips, he curled into a tight spindash. He waited then charged forward, knocking the Egg Fighters away like bowling pins.

A bright beam of laser light tore down from the sky, leaving a deep, smouldering gash in the earth below. Another laser followed the first, and then a third, then more as a great flock of Egg Chasers descended from the sky.

"Last warning, hedgehog! Get out of here!"

Sonic gasped in mock offense.

"And leave when the fighting's still good? Never!"

He grinned at the Egg Chasers, tauntingly gesturing for them to come closer as he continued dodging their lasers with ease.

He ran. "Unless you guys are trying to start a disco, you're doing a terrible job!"

The ledge narrowed, turning into a thin, jutting trail down the edge of the pit. The Egg Chasers packed together above, thick enough to block the sunlight. But ahead, the ledge evened out, running flush with the bottom of the mine—a great, open pit, bare to the sky, coming down into a hollow cone.

And in the very center, a great, steel structure stood with immense spires reaching upward toward the sky.

Sonic's smile faded to an unamused frown. The structure was such an eyesore, especially when he knew that there was once nature in its place.

Well, at the very least, it would serve his purposes.

Sonic ran at the structure, dashing up the outer wall in an extra burst of speed. The Egg Chasers approached, aiming at him with little success.

Sonic jumped with just enough height to grab onto one of them. He glanced over at the remaining ones.

"All right, so which one of you lucky bots is gonna be the one to actually come close to hitting me?"

Two Egg Chasers swooped down, nearly clanging into each other, then separated as they approached him. Closing in from either side, their lasers tore at the earth, the smell of burning soil rising all around.

Sonic jumped as the lasers approached. The laser struck the Egg Chaser he had held onto instead. He then leaped from Egg Chaser to Egg Chaser in a brilliant blur of blue. Lasers followed behind him but never hit their mark.

"Nope!"

"Try again!"

"Sorry!"

If they failed to hit him, as they always did, they would either strike nothing or pierce the armor of one of the other Egg Chasers.

Sonic loved the smell of fried robot parts.

Before they could even pull up "protocol failed" on their processors, there was only one Egg Chaser left, and Sonic clung to it with a smug smirk. He then spindashed its back, his quills slicing into its rockets as it plummeted to the ground.

Sonic hopped off, standing in front of the structure as he surveyed the damage.

"Hm, looks like you're the last one," he said, as if he didn't already know. "And since the other bots didn't even come close, I guess that makes you the lucky one."

He covered his eyes, ears pointing upwards.

"I'll give you a fighting chance. Go on, I won't look."

The lone Egg Chaser stood there looking somewhat sad and pathetic, grounded like a broken airplane. And yet if the Egg Chaser itself noticed its condition, it didn’t seem to deter it. Instead, it dug its heels into the ground and fired. Laser light beamed forward, tearing through the ground in a single, deep rut.

Sonic waited half a second—an agonizingly long time—then dodged. The laser broke through the steel structure, melting a deep hole.

Sonic uncovered his eyes then spindashed confidently through the final Egg Chaser.

He stood proudly on the robot as he threw his hand dramatically up into the air. "And  _that's_  the game!"

He chuckled to himself, leaving the scattered robots to themselves as he walked towards the gap.

Before he entered, he took one last peek at the damage he had done. His confidence shined brighter than the sun.

"Huh. Guess  _none of you_  were the lucky ones."

He tsk'd, walking inside.

The inside of the structure was dim, made even worse by the sudden break from the sun. Smooth steel sheets smothered the floor, dipping down into a large basin at the very center. Iron beams lined the top, weaving into a lattice of support.

And yet all of this was overpowered by the object in the center: an enormous glass tube made from dark panes. It was impossible to see inside, and it stretched from floor to ceiling, illuminated only by an array of red lights lining the floor.

Sonic gazed upwards, unimpressed.

"I busted into this place for  _this?_  A big hunk of whatever and a light show?" he asked, gesturing to the offending objects. He looked around, searching for any sign of Eggman. "Yo, Eggs Benedict! Where's the next swarm of your lamebots? Don't tell me you've gone over easy on me!"

The bolts between the steel panels began to shake, then the panels themselves, then the entire room. The lights flickered, growing to full intensity, brighter and brighter, until they were nearly as bright as the sun outside.

Then the room went dark.

Lights clicked on behind Sonic, illuminating his shadow in a single, long streak.

Sonic's ears perked, but instead of a surprised gasp, he gave an amused smile.

_Boss time already? You spoil me, Egghead._

He turned.

Towering above stood the mechanical monstrosity: a great, steel snake. Metallic panels wove together to form the body. Black paint ran across its back, yellow across its stomach. And yet, instead of a head, there was the Egg Mobile, and inside of that—

Dr. Eggman.

"Behold! My greatest creation—the Egg Basilisk!"

"You're still not over that naming thing, huh?" Sonic asked casually, hands on his hips. "So, lemme guess. Before we fight, you wanna talk about why you're here and how  _inevitable_  my defeat is because of some big plan. That about right?"

Sonic sat down on the floor, legs crossed and hands resting on the floor. His smirk was as wide as ever. "Go on then, Eggface.  _Amuse me._  I'll even pretend like it matters if you want."

The Egg Basilisk reared backward. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we, hedgehog? You're in that big of a rush to meet your demise?"

A muffled, whirling roar filled the room, emanating from the floor. The lights surrounding the glass tube flashed on and off, flickering faster as the roar grew in intensity. Air hissed through the pipes lining the tube.

"Mazuri is truly wonderful, isn't it? The air here is so clean—exactly what my new generator needs to run. It should last me a long time—that is, until the smog turns the sky black. Then I'll have to find something else." Eggman shrugged. "But that won't matter to you. Today will be your last."

Sonic turned to the glass tube, his mouth dropping open at the sight. The amusement drained from his face. "We'll see about that, Eggface. What's here that's so important anyway that you've gotta make this place as gross as you?"

Eggman smirked. "The geology of Mazuri is very unique. Nowhere on this planet is quite like it. For example, did you know, pincushion, that the continental fault line lies just beneath us?"

"Yeah? Because it's your  _fault_  that this place is turning into a wreck?" Sonic snarked, brow raised. "So you just wanna gather up all this land for your rock collection, is that it?"

"Oh yes! The rocks, the dirt—anything inside the planet that I can turn into energy."

Eggman chuckled.

"Now, rodent—prepare to die!"

The Egg Basilisk slammed forward, screeching against the floor and charging toward Sonic.

Sonic scowled, moving away in a burst of speed. "Ah, shoot, and I didn't bring my coffin or anything. Maybe next time."

The Basilisk slithered past the tube, picking up speed as it rounded the corner, then reared up above Sonic. Panels along its side snapped open, revealing an array of laser guns bolted to the machine.

"Ready…" The lasers glowed. "Fire!"

Sonic jumped, backflipping and sidestepping around the lasers.

"Well, you're better than your bots at least." He smirked. The tube gave him an idea, and he dashed for it. "But not by much!"

The Basilisk slammed into the ground, bouncing forward as it screeched between Sonic and the tube.

"Not today, hedgehog!" Eggman slammed the control panel. The lasers dropped back into the machine. The Basilisk rumbled. Spikes burst outward, covering the surface like a pufferfish.

Sonic hummed. "Ooo, that's new."

He ran from the Basilisk, trying to make distance. He didn't need a plan. He just needed action.

The Basilisk lurched backward, nearly coiling in on itself. Then in a burst of momentum, it sprang forward, soaring through the air, spikes gleaming with the red light below.

Sonic sped to Eggman's side, narrowly dodging the Basilisk as it landed. He followed along Eggman as the Basilisk circled the room. Sonic smirked, shouting over his shoulder as he ran, "You think that big caterpillar can catch  _me?_  Fat chance, Eggman!"

"Catch you? Who said anything about catching you? The point is to—" The Basilisks spikes tore into the steel, sending a shower of sparks as it moved. It reared up again then went careening toward Sonic. "—crush you!"

Sonic sped up, looking down at the marks in the floor left by the Basilisk's spikes. He shrugged, unimpressed.

"We'll see about that!"

He raced towards the glass tube.

The Basilisk sprang up again, rising over Sonic is a grand arc. For a moment, its shadow eclipsed Sonic, soaring nearly silently above him. Then it tilted down.

Except Sonic wasn't under it any more. He had bolted out of the way just as the Basilisk had come crashing down. So Eggman's cockpit hit the ground instead, and the momentum sent the Basilisk careening into the tube.

The glass cracked, tiny lines spreading across its surface, and yet it did not shatter. Eggman quickly pulled the Basilisk back.

"Don't think you can pull that trick on me, rodent."

Sonic skidded across the steel floor as he stopped, surveying the damage that Eggman's Basilisk had caused.

Smug eyes half-lidded, he grinned. "Don't have to."

He ran, finding his place at the opposite end of the Basilisk. "You left me an opening!"

He jumped and spindashed, aiming himself at the tube before the Basilisk had time to react.

The sharp quills of Sonic's spindash hit the glass. He expected to hear Eggman's angry shout. Or maybe the motor finally shutting down. He had prioritized taking down the machines that were destroying Mazuri's nature first, so that was all that was left.

But that wasn't what happened. Instead, he felt a force slamming against him, forcing him to uncurl. Sonic's vision blurred as he barely registered the blasts of dark purple smoke escaping through the cracks. The cracks multiplied, pieces of glass flying everywhere as Sonic spun in an effort to disperse the energy.

He landed with his usual flair, looking up to the massive hole left in the glass. The purple smoke dissipated out from underneath him, seeming to vanish into the air.

_Seeming to._

Sonic glanced up at Eggman with his usual smugness. The power source hadn't been what he expected, but it was most likely just a delayed shutdown reaction.

"Heh, not so tough without your power, huh, Egg—?!" Sonic cut off with a strangled cry. A sharp pain jolted through his body. His breath went short, his legs giving out and forcing him to to the ground. He threw his hands out, skidding across the cold metal floor, stopping his head from slamming against it.

His face, his chest, his whole  _body_  felt like it was on fire. He was usually so tolerant of pain, but that tolerance was abandoned as he grunted. The burning sensation swarmed through him like biting insects.

What was this? What was happening? Sonic wasn't sure. His mind was nothing but a jumbled mess as he struggled to lift his head, able to do nothing else but give a weak and confused glare to Eggman.

The Basilisk slowed, coming to a gradual halt. Steam hissed from the cockpit, and the Eggmobile popped off from the head of the snake. It drifted to the ground, and as soon as it got close enough, Eggman scrambled out from it.

"That's the funny thing about power," Eggman said. He dusted off his shoulders, meandering toward Sonic. "It can be used for different things."

Sonic went to retort, but all that came out was a loud yelp as the waves of fire burned inside his body. They flared, joining together, bursting through to every corner of his form.

Sonic winced, shaking as he tried not to look weak in front of Eggman. He was failing, and he knew it.

Something in him was changing. He forced his eyes open, though squinting, and despite the fuzziness of his vision, he could see his skin seemed off-color. His arms and chest itched, as if the fire was trying to escape through them.

Suddenly, Sonic realized that he'd felt this before. Dread followed after the familiarity.

"N-no!" His voice came out weak and pathetic. He could feel his bones reacting to the fire. They melted and stretched like taffy, Sonic panting helplessly at both the heat and pain.

His ears twisted sharply, and the itchiness in his arms and chest flared. A mass of fur grew out along them, fluffing outwards with the rest of his fur. Desperately, Sonic reached a shaky hand to his other arm, grabbing it and squeezing as hard as he could, as if trying to force the transformation to stop. His attempts were futile, both arms thickening and gaining muscle. He felt claws at the ends of his fingers, stressing against the inside of his gloves. His hands expanded, tearing apart the white fabric, light blue skin exposed to the harsh air.

He bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back another cry. His muzzle was shifting, his teeth growing fangs. The entirety of his mouth felt foreign as it widened and adjusted to the transformation's whim.

His torso felt thicker,  _heavier,_  and the burning grew strongest there. It was like all of his insides—his  _organs_ —were moving, changing, and burning twice as badly as they tried to find a place in his body.

The strength in his legs was the last to go. The feeling of being able to carry him anywhere he wanted to go vanished. Unlike everything else, it was quick and painless, yet somehow, Sonic felt it to be the worst part of the experience.

The fire cleared into mere soreness. Sonic's arms slipped out from beneath him. He dropped to the floor in a heap. Wisps of black seeped through the edges of his vision, and the coldness of the floor did nothing to ease him.

"You wanted to know what was so special about Mazuri, rodent? Or should I say, mutt?" Eggman's boots clicked against the steel floor as he walked. "It was the last place on Earth with a pocket of Dark Gaia energy. Imagine that, hmm?"

To Sonic, it was like Eggman's voice was miles away. He couldn't think. There was an uncomfortable pounding in his ears that he couldn't shake.

He huffed, pushing himself up into a sitting position and staring silently at his form.

His werehog form. The one he never thought he would see again.

"Of course, given this was the last pocket, I had to take extra precautions to ensure you got the right dosage. It would have been a terrible shame to expose you to it, only to have nothing happen but fur grow out of your ears. So I made sure to expose to a little more...condensed energy than last time."

Sonic's ears flicked at Eggman's words. He glared up at the doctor, but felt vertigo from the simple movement.

Why was it so hard to think?

He swallowed, trying to ready a comeback in his head. A growl came out instead, harsh and animalistic.

He tried to think, to think up some sort of plan that would stop Eggman and reverse this.

Instead, he only felt one emotion.

_Aggression._


	2. Chapter 2

Sonic felt sick. The entire world was spinning. He just wanted it to stop. His body was sore, but that wasn't the least of it.

Hot. It was so hot. He was sweating, and it coated his fur.

"Ugh."

He sat up, sticking his tongue out in disgust. The Mazuri ground beneath him offered no relief whatever.

Wait.

Sonic blinked, memories a fog, senses kicking in.

The first sense—sight. He saw that he wasn't near Eggman's strip mine now. He saw the sun was blazing overhead.

He was still a werehog.

Touch—an uncomfortable sensation along his hands. Tiny metallic scraps were lodged all along his claws, as if he had been scratching up robots.

Scent—the dirty tinge of oil. It had dredged in a sickly, thick smear all along his arms and chest.

He held his head, groaning. He tried to remember. His head hurt when he tried to remember. Why couldn't he remember?

Legs shaking, he pushed himself up to a weak, leaning stand, casting about to gauge his location. He was still in Mazuri, that much was obvious, but wherever he was now, it was far away from anywhere he knew.

And he wasn't getting far in his condition. How could he have let this happen?

Sonic sighed, kneeling down and reaching into one of his socks with a claw. With a soft click, he snatched off a small device that had been attached to his leg, hidden by the sock cuff. Tails had been right to insist he carry it, as much as Sonic hated to admit it. The device itself was simple—Sonic had rejected any device too big to carry easily—so it was a tiny thing with a single orange and red button.

The device was so small, and his hand was so huge.

Maybe a larger device wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.

He tapped gently at the orange button with his claw.

The device rang. He hated this already.

A single ring. The other line connected.

"Sonic? Is something wrong?" Tails said. With the device's limited resolution, the connection was grainy, but Tails' voice was clear enough.

"Tails—" Sonic stopped. His voice sounded so rough. He grimaced.

"I'm fine." Sonic sighed, slapping his face. "But I need you to come get me. Can you get where I am from this thing?"

"Whoa—Sonic! Are you sure you're alright? Your voice…" Tails trailed off. The sound click of typing keys came through the line, and Tails returned. "Yeah—I have your coordinates right here. I'll come right away. Are you in danger?"

"Unless you're worried about me dying of boredom, no, I'm not." Sonic had meant it as a joke, but his voice came out so cheerless.

"Just...buddy, don't be surprised, okay?" Sonic frowned. He had no reason to worry. Tails had seen him like this before. What was the big deal?

"Sonic—oh, I should have gone with you, I should have—" The roar of the Tornado's engine cut off Tails' voice. "—never left you alone. Eggman is too dangerous and—"

"Tails, buddy! Easy..." Sonic ran a hand through his quills, but gagged as the metal scraps poked his skin. "Egghead wasn't a big deal. He—"

The memory. Sonic's throat went dry. He didn't remember exactly what happened. There was only the feeling. The terribly violent emotion he had felt. It was all black after that. Nothing but the memory of his mind screaming at him.

He blinked. He hadn't finished his sentence.

"...S-some stuff happened, but I'm not hurt, I swear."

A rush of air over the communicator. Had Tails really gotten into the plane that quickly? It would explain why the connection had suddenly become so choppy. "Y-you s-sound—" Static broke over the communicator. "I-I'll be...soon and—"

"Sounds good, buddy." Sonic tapped the red button. He was pretty sure his response hadn't gone through, but it didn't really matter.

He clicked the communicator back onto his leg and looked up to the sky. He had nothing to do but wait in this awful, gross heat, and it made him feel even worse.

He looked down at himself, regretting that he hadn't asked Tails to bring a cold, wet towel to clean himself off. Tails probably had enough to worry about already, but the oil in his fur was rather unpleasant.

He stared at the scraps of metal in his claws. What had happened? He must have been fighting robots, but Eggman was standing right there when he passed out, right? Then again, maybe Eggman had gotten back in his Eggmobile and fled.

If there was anything about his werehog form that'd be useful right now, it was that he at least had a sharp sense of smell. And if he had attacked Eggman, there would be evidence. Blood, pieces of shredded fabric, anything that could hint at what he did.

If he had attacked anyone.

The air itself seemed to stick to the Mazuri. It was utterly still, utterly hot, thick, and humid, as if he could cut the air itself with his claws. Insects, as large as his fingernails, swarmed above him in a buzzing, incessant, whine.

A large, fat horsefly swooped down, coming to a rest atop the matted fur of Sonic's forearm.

Sonic groaned, swatting it away with the back of his hand. He had enough annoyances to deal with right now. He didn't need more.

The fly buzzed up, hovered in the air for a moment, then came down again, landing in the same place. Another fly followed the first, this one landing on his shoulder.

Sonic glared at the insects. Could Tails' plane hurry up already?

A quiet snarl rumbled from his throat. It grew and grew until it was a harsh growl, his fur standing on end.

The buzzing stopped.

Silence.

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. His voice had felt like it had so much power, and he had never heard himself sound like that before. Sure, maybe he had howled once or twice when he was excited back then, but that had been it.

It had been more fun at night.

He shook his head. Best not to think about it. At the very least, there was no scent of blood or fabric on him.

More buzzing. It was all around him—the flies, they were—no, the flies were gone. The entire swarm had bolted off from his growl. But the buzzing—

Dust flew up into the air, hot and sandy. Sonic had to throw his arm over his eyes, but as the dust began to settle, so too did the buzzing.

"Sonic!" Tails leaped from the Tornado, pilot's goggles still covering his eyes. But just as he reached up to pull them off, he froze.

"You...you're—"

Tails had already seen him like this a long time ago, but it didn't help. Sonic felt exposed.

"Sweaty, dirty, and needing a ride home? Yeah, you're right." Sonic's shoulders slumped. "Look, bud, I know you've probably got a million questions for me, but can we start flying first? I don't want to be fried out here."

"But it's—" Tails looked up, the glare of the sun reflecting off his goggles. He shook his head. "Yeah, okay. Let's get you home. You sure you're alright?"

Sonic simply nodded, not wanting to discuss how he felt any more than he had to.

"Alright then. Let me just switch the mode here," Tails said. He scrambled back into the Tornado and took his seat. He placed his hands over the controls then reached over and clicked a button on the dash.

The Tornado shook, the joints in the center squeaking. The plane began to stretch outward, panels snapping into place as the Tornado transformed. It was then over as quickly as it had begun: the Tornado now stood before Sonic. Tails was sitting in the front, the second seat empty behind him.

"It's not as fast in this mode," Tails admitted, "but it should be a more comfortable ride."

Sonic managed a weak smile, happy that Tails was thinking of him, then jumped up, climbing into the back seat of the Tornado. It was comfortable enough, although the feeling of his sweat-soaked fur squeaking against the vinyl seat wasn't the nicest sensation.

He avoided Tails' gaze, an arm resting on the side of his seat as he stared off into the sky.

Tails glanced back at Sonic, but he didn't say anything. Sonic was in no mood to talk, especially not if it involved shouting over the roar of the wind, and Tails likely understood that.

So they flew onward, toward home, in silence.

Tails' lab was hidden away in the dense forests of rural Spagonia. The building itself was made of fallen timbers striped clean of bark, tucked away in the thick of the forest. They had cleared a small landing strip just outside of it, which was where the Tornado came coasting to a stop.

Sonic hopped out of the plane, stretching as he took a breath of the cool air. The forest air was damp and clear, a sharp contrast to Mazuri. He was tired, but sleep could wait.

"Okay. First question, shoot," Sonic said.

Tails pulled himself out of the plane, leaving his goggles in the cockpit, and fluttered down to Sonic's side.

"What happened?"

"Was fighting Eggman. Broke open this thing. Dark Gaia energy everywhere." Sonic tried to keep things as simple as possible. Tails didn't need to know that he was fooled by Eggman again. "Next."

"Dark Gaia energy? But wasn't all of that sealed up with Chip and Dark Gaia? Where did Eggman find it?"

"Mazuri," Sonic replied. "There was some small amount left there or something, and it got sucked into me. Anything else?"

Tails began walking down the runway, gesturing for Sonic to follow. "But it's daytime. Last time, you only turned at night."

"Yeah. I know." Sonic sighed and followed after Tails, watching his own hand as he curled and uncurled his fingers. "...Do you think you can help me, buddy?"

Tails' lab was a simple building, small, if only because Tails was organized. Tails stepped up to the building and rested his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sure I can, Sonic! Eggman's thrown all sorts of stuff at us. We'll sort this out."

Sonic looked up at Tails with wide eyes then nodded. A weight lifted off his chest. "You're right. Thanks, Tails."

Tails beamed. "Anytime, Sonic! Now—"

The door creaked open, revealing the inside of Tails' lab. A variety of scientific equipment line the walls, kept in neat rows above Tails' wooden workbench. In the corner laid an examination table, and Tails gestured over to it.

"I'll need to run some tests. I still have the data from last time this happened, so if I compare it, maybe I can figure out why you're like this during the day."

Sonic nodded again, taking a moment before settling himself on the examination table.

"Yeah, Egghead said something about 'condensed energy', but I couldn't really follow it."

"'Condensed energy'? Huh. I didn't think you could condense Dark Gaia energy. It's really strong on its own." Tails brought over a circle device with a meter on the front connected to half a dozen wires with pads. He began to press the pads to Sonic's arms and chest then paused to read the meter. "Huh. That's strange."

Sonic blinked, raising a brow. "What's up?"

Tails furrowed his brow, glancing at the scanner then back to Sonic. "Well, it's a little hard to say without more data, but—"

"But what?" Sonic cut in.

"Last time, back at night, the readings were more sporadic. But these readings are consistent—like the Dark Gaia energy has really attached to you this time."

Sonic frowned, trying to make sense of Tails' words. "So...what does that mean? Is it just because it's the daytime or because Dark Gaia's back inside the planet?"

"Last time, the Dark Gaia energy weakened during the day, but now—" Tails gestured to the window. The sky is darker now as the sun begins to set. "The sun is going down, at yet the readings haven't changed. The energy's stabilized."

Sonic paused, staring down at the meter, then himself. "Stabilized, huh..."

A deathly silence hung in the air. Sonic broke it by suddenly getting off the table and removing the various pads attached to him.

"Hey Tails, can I borrow your shower?" He was already walking away. "I'm gonna go for a run, but I need to wash Eggface's badniks off of me first."

Tails frowned, the device hanging inert in his hands. "Yeah, there's one in the back room. You sure you're alright?"

"Aside from the sweat, metal, and oil all over me? 'Course!" Sonic shrugged, heading into the other room. "Thanks!"

"Sonic," Tails said quietly. "We'll figure this out. I promise."

Sonic paused, stopping right after the doorway to look back at Tails. He gave another nod then left. The sound of running water following shortly after.

While the shower didn't take long by normal standards, considering Sonic's usually speedy showers, it was comparatively long.

Sonic walked back into the room. A towel hung over his shoulders, and he was still using it to dry his damp fur. His eyes were distant.

He hesitated. "Hey, Tails?" He stared out the window. "There's something else..."

Tails was sitting at his desk again, but when Sonic walked into the room, he jumped up. "Yeah? What is it?"

"You know how I was covered in oil and bits of Eggman's bots?" Sonic asked. "I...don't remember how I got that way."

He rubbed the back of his head, still trying to remember. Still nothing came to mind. "Everything after me turning into this is a blur. I just woke up looking like that where you found me."

Tails sat up straighter, his ear twitching. "You don't remember? It had been hours since you attacked Eggman before you called me. How long do you think you were out?"

Sonic tried harder, but again, there was nothing. "I-I don't know, buddy. All I remember is Eggman standing in front of me. It was hard to really think, but I felt..."

He paused for a moment, mouth feeling dry. " _—Savage._ "

Tails furrows his brow. "'Savage'? You mean it was different from the last time?"

"Yeah." Sonic grabbed one end of the towel along his shoulders, running it across his fur again to keep his hands busy. "It never happened before."

"Hmm." Tails turned his head to the window. It was early evening, the last remnants of the sun disappearing along the horizon.

"Here—I have an idea." Tails scooped up a small device from the table—some type of wristwatch contraption—and dropped it in Sonic's hands. "I made this while you were in the shower."

Sonic examined it then slapped it on his wrist. "What's it do?"

"It reads your vital signs—your heartrate, your blood oxygen levels, you know, the usual. And it measures some more exotic stuff too, like your Dark Gaia energy levels. I figured it would be useful to collect some more detailed data to compare with what we had before."

Sonic nodded, not understanding all the weird symbols on the device but trusting Tails.

He brought the towel back up to the side of his face, rubbing it against his fur a few times. Upon looking, he noticed that loose strands of fur had been caught by the fabric.

He really needed to relax.

"Thanks, Tails. I'll be back later."

He jogged past Tails, leaving the lab behind as he went into the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

Sonic took a deep breath of fresh air. He held it in his lungs for a moment, letting the cool dampness sink in, then let it all out in a sigh. As he walked through the forest, the night carried a slight, though ultimately fruitless chill, which had no effect on Sonic's thick coat of fur.

"What a mess," Sonic mumbled. He eyed the device on his wrist, trying to think of some sort of pun or joke, but his mind was completely blank. At the very least, nighttime made him feel more alert and awake, but even that was just a reminder of his current state.

And wasn't the night supposed to be quiet? What had happened to that? The current night was a cacophony: crickets, their harsh cries like squealing tires. Bats, their calls like the neverending ringing of the telephone. But the worst of all was the baying hounds. Their howls were distant enough, but Sonic could still hear the thrill in their voices.

He might have wandered deep into the forest, but with decibels like these, he may as well be standing in the middle of Empire City.

Just when he thought the sounds couldn't get worse, a piercing whirr hit his ears. Sonic looked up, glaring as the offending object descended from the sky.

It landed with a deep thud, sending undulating waves through the grass like seaweed underwater. A harsh, mechanical whirl filled the forest as it began to extend. Sharp, silver claws and quills glew a faint, iridescent blue, as bright as the moon.

"Silver Sonic?" Sonic raised a brow as the implication hit him. "Wait, so Eggman's okay?"

Sonic had never been happier to hear that Eggman was alive and well.

Silver Sonic's only response was to let out a series of harsh beeps as it leaned down, claws extended into a fighting stance. With a sharp intake of air, its engine whined, and it hurled itself toward Sonic.

Silver Sonic was hardly Sonic's most dangerous foe. It was an older model, one Sonic had fought before. All he had to do was spindash away and—

Silver Sonic slammed into his chest. Sonic choked, trying to breathe, but the pressure against him was just to great. With nothing to grab onto, and no speed to save him, Sonic was slammed to the earth. Mud and sticks sliced through his now softer quills, leaving tiny nicks through his scalp.

A deep, rumbling growl rose from the depths of Sonic's throat. Leaning back on one arm, he thrust Silver Sonic's arms away. "You know, I'm really not in the mood to do this right now."

Silver Sonic's only response was to lunge forward again, quickly and calculating in a near robotic perfection.

Sonic stretched his arm outwards. His fist pummeled Silver Sonic's face, plowing the robot into the ground.

"Seriously. Can I get a rain check?" Sonic asked. His voice was barely above a growl, low and unamused.

Silver Sonic squirmed. Sonic growled again. It was so hard to think when this thing just wouldn't leave him alone.

With a sudden hum, Silver Sonic curled up into a spindash. Sonic had to quickly retreat his hand, the spikes almost grazing his skin.

Silver Sonic charged forward, its large, middle spikes churning the dirt into the mud. Sonic readied himself. As soon as Silver Sonic spun forward, Sonic stepped to the side. He slapped the blunt side of Silver Sonic's quills, throwing the robot off balance just enough that Sonic was then able to clap both hands around it, heaving Silver Sonic back to the ground.

Silver Sonic uncurled, tumbling a few meters away. It sat up, seemingly unaffected by the throw. Sonic was off his game. He knew that. His heart wasn't into this.

Silver Sonic curled up again, charging at Sonic with more speed than before. Sonic went for another clap, but Silver Sonic had learned its lesson. It buzzed around his fists, instead smashing Sonic into the face. Sonic lurched backward, tree branches snapping as he crashed through the forest.

Sonic sat up, a lower, angrier growl coming from his throat. His chest felt tight, like he was shrinking, like the whole world was shrinking like a piece of plastic wrap left in the oven. A wash of nervous energy was seeping into his veins, black seeping into the edges of his vision. He was angry. He was powerful.

This thing was attacking him. His first priority was his own survival. It was a threat. He destroyed threats.

He dashed at the threat on all fours.

 

* * *

 

Eggman slammed his fist down on the button, shutting off Silver Sonic's camera feed just as Sonic thrust Silver Sonic against a tree. Eggman groaned, bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose to massage it.

This was a disaster. While it had been fun to mess with Sonic at first, a hasty retreat coupled with a destroyed base was hardly a definition of success.

Still massaging his face, Eggman slid his other hand along the keys, bringing up Silver Sonic's diagnostics. The top showed the basic command that Eggman had given him—finding and attacking Sonic—but clustered near the bottom was a mass of self-given commands that had appeared just as Silver Sonic had started to actually fight Sonic. The input of self-commands was slow at first, but they became more frequent as the seconds passed. Silver Sonic had even made observations—Sonic's actions were not of the expected kind. Errors piled up immediately afterward, and Eggman could almost hear the sound of crunching metal.

Then...the text came to a stop. There was nothing. Either Silver Sonic had stopped transmitting data, which Eggman had programmed him not to do unless its system was in dire need of all focus, or Sonic had destroyed Silver Sonic to the point where no more commands could be processed.

Neither were good options.

Still, that was fine. Silver Sonic was a casualty, but Eggman had other plans. He could make this work. He _had_ to make this work. All that time and effort put into getting the Dark Gaia energy would _not_ go to waste.

He tapped a few more keys, and a noticeably-worn microphone emerged from a small panel on his console. Eggman grasped it in his hand and spoke into it with a direct tone.

"Metal Sonic! I need you here _immediately!_ "

The resounding engine roar through the corridor was all the proof Eggman needed that Metal was on his way. Metal was fast—faster than Sonic even in his hedgehog state, or so he would say—and it took but a blink of the eye.

Metal came flying through the door. "Awaiting your command, doctor."

"My command hasn't changed!" Eggman replied, as if it was obvious. He shut off the screen and turning his chair to Metal.

"I want you to take care of Sonic. Don't care how, just _do it._ "

"Statement is incorrect. Prior command was to destroy—"

"Oh, and, not tonight," Eggman added. He ignored Metal as he stared back at the blank screen, distracted. "Wait until morning."

"...Affirmative," Metal said, his optics flickering. "Are there additional commands?"

"That's it!" Eggman said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now go, I'm busy with my next project."

Metal turned away from Eggman, the steel soles of his shoes clicking against the floor.

He had his orders.

 

* * *

 

Sonic stumbled into Tails' lab. His eyes were wide with a deep, pained expression of exhaustion.

"H-hey, buddy," he muttered, running a hand through his quills. His hands noticeably shook as he removed the wristwatch-esque device and tossed it onto Tails' desk. "Remind me not to go wandering around in the forest when Eggman sends bots after me."

Tails turned up from his desk. His eyes wandered over Sonic, and yet he did not make eye contact. "You're not hurt though, right? And you remember this time?"

Sonic frowned, raising a brow. "Was it that obvious?" He sighed. "'Cause, oh yeah, I remember all right. I tore Silver Sonic to pieces and destroyed a good chunk of the forest while I was at it."

Tails nodded slowly, his gaze still glued to the readings on the computer monitor.

"Something—something's different this time, Sonic. When you got into that fight, your readings—"

"What'd they say?" Sonic sat down on a nearby chair, a mixture of concern and confusion on his face.

"This line represents your Dark Gaia energy levels. See—" Tails tilted the computer monitor toward him. Two lines, one red, one green, snaked across the screen. The green line was nearly flat, but the red line had a sudden, enormous peak.

"Green is from when you were this way before, and red is now. As you can see, the red both has a higher baseline, and it fluctuates. It started rising when you got into the fight with Silver Sonic."

"But what changed?" Sonic asked, urging on Tails. "Why am I losing control, and why did I only remember it _this time?_ "

Tails bit his lip, and he still wasn't looking at Sonic. "Before, your Dark Gaia energy levels would drop to nearly zero during the day. That's why you turned back. But now, they don't drop during the day any more, and further—"

Tails took a deep breath. "Normally, when your body feels threatened, it reacts by increasing your stress hormone levels. It fills your blood stream with them so you can fight or flee. Except now—your body is treating Dark Gaia energy in the same way. It's filling you with even higher levels when you feel threatened."

"So what? I'm gonna lose control of myself every time I'm in a fight?"

"Not every time per say. Only when there's a really big threat. Dark Gaia energy is powerful stuff, and with so much of it in your system, your body is going to make use of it if things get bad enough. Look at it this way—"

Tails turned away from the monitor. "With Dark Gaia energy levels this high, your body is reacting to threats more like how a creature of Dark Gaia would, and less like how an ordinary being would. This reaction is something you may not have control over. Just like how you can't control when you feel hunger, for example.

"Which brings me to my next point—you said you remembered the fight this time? But not before?"

"Yeah?" Sonic tilted his head. "You figured out why I remembered?"

"I have a guess," Tails said. "You fought Eggman during the day, which you didn't remember, and you fought his robots at night, which you did remember. I think that's the key. This form is nocturnal, so you naturally have greater mental clarity at night. That makes you more aware of what happens."

"Great," Sonic grumbled sarcastically. He spun the chair around so that the back faced Tails. Sonic threw a hand up in exasperation. "So I'm gonna have to deal with losing control and only remembering half the time until we get this fixed."

Tails crossed his fingers, his gaze returning to his hands. "Uhh...yeah...about that—"

Sonic visibly flinched but didn't turn around. "What?"

"You remember back when this happened before? I was looking for a fix then too. I never did find one because of how this works—it's the Dark Gaia energy that's causing it, so until that energy is removed, there's nothing that can be done. And remember last time, it was actually Chip who…" Tails trailed off.

There was a long pause. A long, _uncomfortable_ pause.

Sonic turned the chair back around. He then stood up and walked over to Tails, his expression unreadable.

"What are you saying?"

Tails continued to stare at his hands. "Chip is sealed inside the planet, as is Dark Gaia. In order to reverse this, Dark Gaia would need to reabsorb the energy, but since no one can reach Dark Gaia…"

Tails met Sonic's gaze. He appeared to be on the verge of tears.

"There's nothing we can do."


	4. Chapter 4

Sonic didn't know how much time had passed since Tails had spoken, and he also didn't know how long it took him to reply.

"W-what? You mean...?"

Sonic stared at Tails for a long moment. His friend's eyes were serious and filled with regret. Tails wasn't kidding.

" _There's nothing we can do."_

Sonic swallowed, his throat dry, and a small laugh escaped him. It was weak, sounding rough in his changed voice, dying just as fast as it had started.

In that instant, Sonic felt nothingness. The hope in his chest was extinguished, just like the fires of his transformation.

Yet somehow, despite it all, he smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it, buddy. You did your best."

He held out his arm for a fist bump, but stopped himself, his fist uncurling as he stared blankly at his hand.

His _permanent_ hand.

"Y-yeah," Tails stammered. "It'll all be okay, right? I mean, you can fight Eggman's robots better than ever in this form."

Sonic felt his mouth move involuntarily and heard himself respond, "Yeah."

Tails studied Sonic. Even if his words were hopeful, Tails had known Sonic for a long time, and Sonic knew his facial expressions would give away everything that needed to be said.

Tails stood up and gently placed his hand over Sonic's arm. "Hey, it'll be okay. Really. So what if you're like this now? Nothing's gonna change. There's nothing we can't do."

"Mhm." Another involuntary response.

Sonic couldn't feel the floor anymore. It felt like he was falling, although he hadn't moved at all. He remained where he stood, perfectly still in front of Tails.

Nothing's gonna change? That was already a lie. He was Sonic, and Sonic wasn't Sonic without his sonic-speed. It was everything to him. What did he have without his speed, without his usual cool self?

Tails spoke quietly. "H-hey. Look—I'll show you. We can go for a ride in the Tornado, right? Just like always."

Tails took Sonic's hand, gently nudging him toward the door.

Sonic numbly followed, eyes half-lidded as he let Tails drag him along.

What did it matter? No matter where they went, Sonic's form wouldn't change.

Sonic didn't even notice as they approached the plane. The empty feeling was taking over his entire being, his thoughts clouding.

His thoughts _clouding._

Sonic's eyes shot open. He pulled his hand away from Tails, taking a wary step away.

"No, I...I can't, buddy."

Tails pulled his hand back, as if the sudden withdrawal had stung him physically.

"But—" Tails glanced back at the plane a little too quickly. "It would make you feel better, wouldn't it? Just us, flying the plane. Just like old times."

"T-Tails, I _can't._ "

The fogginess at the edges of his mind threatened to swallow him. Sonic clutched his head, letting out an animalistic growl.

Tails jumped backward, bumping into the Tornado. His eyes widened. "S-sure you can. Nothing's changed, right? So it'll be no big deal."

No big deal? The words sounded like white noise to Sonic; they meant nothing.

Sonic's breath felt heavy. He needed to relieve this stress. He could feel his self-control weakening.

The growl came back, this time stronger and forming words.

"I told you, _I can't!_ "

His hand lashed out, slamming into a thick metal panel. The Tornado. The plane slid away from him, nearly toppling over. A deep dent pocked the surface where he had hit it.

Sonic's eyes widened, mouth dropping open.

"I...I didn't..."

He looked back at Tails.

Tails was staring at Sonic. His eyes were wide with an emotion Sonic recognized.

Terror.

"I-I-I—" Tails stared at the crumpled wing of his plane. He glanced back at Sonic, taking a step backward.

The fog in Sonic's mind had cleared a little from the outburst, but his chest felt even heavier than before.

Without thinking—no, he _did_ think, it was all he could think about—he turned around and ran.

"S-sonic—wait!" Tails was shaking, but he stepped forward, his hands cupped to his face. "It's okay! I'll fix the plane. Wait—"

Sonic ran. He ran far from Tails' lab, hoping to make distance between himself and his buddy. Despite that, he couldn't bring himself to drop on all fours and dash like a crazed animal. He was better than that.

But it didn't change what he had done. He had snapped at his best friend and dented his plane. It was Tails's prized possession. and Sonic nearly sent it tumbling over like a tower of cards.

Why? Why couldn't he control himself? Tails' explanation hadn't satisfied him. So what if he had more Dark Gaia energy than the first time? His will had been strong enough to keep him under control before. What changed? Did _he_ change?

He didn't dare look back. He _couldn't._ If he looked back, he would have to risk potentially seeing Tails chasing after him, telling him that everything would be okay.

It _wouldn't_ be.

He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd started running, but he did notice how short his breath was as he stopped at his house. He didn't visit it often, but he supposed he would have to make an exception now.

He unlocked the door using a key tucked away in his sock, not even bothering to close the door behind him as he went inside. The place still smelled clean, new, like it hadn't even been lived in.

He headed for his bedroom, flicking the light switch on before immediately heading over to a set of drawers beside his bed. As he opened the bottom one, a shimmer of light streamed out from it. He opened the drawer all the way. The glittering surface of his cyan Chaos Emerald gleamed at him.

He took it clumsily in his hands. While the Emeralds had previously felt like a perfect fit for his hands, they now felt tiny, like he wasn't meant to hold them.

He covered the Emerald in both hands, sharpening his gaze and focusing. He wanted it to take him somewhere—anywhere—just so long as it wasn't near anyone else. Somewhere he could be alone.

The glow of the Emerald seeped between his fingers. It started out calm, only to then turn a violent shade, wisps of energy fizzling out of the gem like electricity. The Emerald suddenly became hot, and Sonic cried out as he dropped it to the floor.

He stared down at his hands, noting the burns around his palms.

The Emerald had rejected him. It had _never_ rejected him before.

Sonic backed away, staring down at it, then silently left his house at a walking pace. He slammed the door behind him.

The walk became a jog.

The jog became a run.

He dropped to all fours. He was desperate, waiting, hoping, _needing_ the rush of adrenaline he used to get while running.

It didn't come. It never would. The burns on his hands stung with every press against the ground. His chest heaved as he slowed to a stop, panting heavily.

The forest was silent, the only sound his breathing. He was truly alone, and his heavy breath just reminded him of his current predicament: being unable to return to his former self.

Even in the daylight, he was trapped.

He let himself fall to the ground, his arms shielding his face as he finally began to sob. He wished that Chip was still with him, and almost wanted the planet to still be in pieces if it meant having a chance to be himself again.

He hadn't learned his lesson, it seemed. He had underestimated Eggman once again, and now he was paying for it. Just like before. Only now, there was no reversing it.

The fur on his arms became damp with tears. Time slowed—or was it speeding up?—and it ceased to have meaning for him.

His body shook, wracked with sobs. His chest felt hot, and it spread to his shoulders, his heart growing hollow. The nighttime air felt so thick. He couldn't breathe it, gasping sharply to compensate.

There was a pressure. Pressure in his head. It pushed outwards, straining his thoughts and making it hard to think.

He was tired. _So_ tired. His body tensed, and he gave himself into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

A forest was a terribly inefficient thing, like an array of batteries sitting idle, slowly leaking out energy until there was nothing left but a pool of lithium salts. Energy had to be in motion. It had to be put to use. To let any store of energy—be it a fuel, a forest, or a battery—sit in disuse was a crime.

And what if Eggman knew of these trees? Then the doctor could harvest them and use the lumber for raw material. He could burn them for electricity or use the land for his factories and the water for his chemical plants. That would be efficient.

That would be optimal.

Still, someone at least had the decency to start the job. The hole was evidence of that. It had to be at least a quarter kilometer wide, maybe more. Someone had felled the trees there. It had been a sloppy job though. Cutting in square acres was the optimal clear path, and Metal still wasn't sure why they had chosen to snap the trees apart instead of cutting them with a saw blade. But this was at least an improvement over what was.

Progress had to start somewhere.

Metal cut his jets and glided down to a landing atop one of the flater tree stumps. Eggman had told him to "wait until the morning," so Metal had arrived at exactly 05:17:00 with not a second to spare. The sun was scheduled to rise at this time, which it was doing now, the light tinges of pink bleeding over the horizon.

Tracking Sonic to this location had been difficult. Ordinarily, Metal could track Sonic by Sonic's energy signature. The hedgehog radiated Chaos Energy like some sort of hyperactive insect trap, and tracking him was as simple as following a lighthouse in the dark.

But that energy had inexplicably gone dark. Metal had tried exactly 3,324 times to detect Sonic's traditional energy signature, and an additional 36,932 times more to detect energy signatures of similar wavelengths. But there was nothing, and this left him with only one conclusion.

Either Sonic was dead, unlikely given Dr. Eggman's orders, or something had happened to alter the hedgehog's energy readings.

So Metal had done the next best thing: before Dr. Eggman had shut off his screen, Metal had caught a passing glimpse. It wasn't a great deal of information, but it was enough to tell him Sonic's last known location was in rural Spagonia, which helped greatly to cut down on the search space of possibilities.

It would be optimal to simply ask Eggman of Sonic's location. Metal always followed the optimal path, so he had already tried this. But the doctor had proven too distracted to respond to Metal's queries, and Metal was forced to devise other methods.

Hence, Metal now found himself in this forest.

He began his search by tromping forward. The irritating sound of crunching leaves followed him as he walked. Thoroughness was a virtue though, and so the corollary to thoroughness was slowness. He had to go slowly. It could not be helped.

Sonic had to be here. Hiding in the bushes perhaps? Or maybe in the trees? It didn't really matter. Metal would find him.

And then Metal would take care of him.

Ahead—a flash. Not a bright flash, so it couldn't be a light source. It was probably some sort of reflective object, catching the glow of the early sun. But why should anything reflective be out here? This was a forest, and whomever had felled these trees had used nothing but brute force.

Perhaps the glint told of Sonic's whereabouts?

Stepping over a particularly large tree branch, Metal approached the source. Despite the early dawn, the forest was largely silent, with not even the chirping of birds nor the crying of insects. There was nothing except the strange, slow panting of the wind.

It had to be the wind.

Metal took a step. Twigs crunched beneath his feet like popped styrofoam. He took another step.

_Clink._

Clink? Metal lifted his foot.

The source of the sound was smothered in the dirt like some kind of mechanical fossil. Metal knelt down, gingerly brushing the dirt away with the side of his hand. He found a claw, a familiar, silver claw, half buried in loam. This claw had belonged to someone. He knew its owner. So why—

_Snap._

Metal sprang upright and clicked on his headlight. He scanned left and right. The source of the sound...where was the source of that sound?

Nothing.

There was only the wind.

Metal clicked off his light. Nothing but a false positive, and now he was wasting time. He needed to press onward.

Something else caught his attention. Jetting out from the tree trunk like a dart was a large, silver quill.

This quill...he knew this quill, but he needed confirmation.

Metal bolted forward, revving his jets just enough to launch himself over a felled tree trunk. The glint shone just on the other side. He turned the corner.

The disembodied head of Silver Sonic laid half buried beneath the tree bark. The head had no body, and it was sparking through a great gouge splintered through the center.

Silver Sonic was no more.

But how could that be? Silver Sonic was one of the doctor's most fearsome robots, second only to Metal himself. And even if Silver Sonic had lost to Sonic before, it had never been _ripped to pieces._

Did Dr. Eggman know about this? Maybe Metal should tell him. This was vital information. This was—

Metal staggered backward and bumped into something with a deep, suffocating thud.

Metal froze. Whatever he was touching, it wasn't a tree. Trees weren't warm. Trees didn't breathe.

Metal looked over his shoulder.

A massive, hulking creature loomed over Metal. Midnight blue fur covered most of its body, except for its wrists, chest, and the tips of its hedgehog-esque quills. Its arms were thick—really thick—with broad, muscular shoulders that more than compensated for the creature's almost awkward proportions. The ends of its fingers bore razor-sharp claws, and two pointy fangs edged out of the sides of its mouth. Its eyes were a deep black, an empty black, like the void itself, and the only color inside of them were its pink irises centered with sharp, white pupils.

But the worst thing of all wasn't its appearance. It was the scattering of tiny silver fragments in its teeth and claws, caught in its fur like snow powder.

Metal immediately scanned for Chaos Energy. There was some sort of reading here, not quite like Chaos Energy, but not unlike it either.

Loading the data through his visual sensors, Metal saw the energy. Twisting, translucent tendrils formed a dark aura around the monster, swirling about like steam.

The decision tree had two options: he could try to fight this monster and probably end up like Silver Sonic. Or—

He could flee.

Metal took in cold air and fired all his cylinders. His turbine hummed with a sudden burst of momentum.

The monster's nose twitched. It glared at Metal with wide eyes. A loud roar rumbled and escaped from its throat.

It lunged for Metal.

Claws tore into his chassis. He needed to flee. He tried to direct energy to his engine. His engine whine and screeched. He tried to put distance between them. But the creature—its arms were stretching? They were—they were actually stretching, and the more distance Metal tried to put between himself and the creature, the more they stretched, stuck to him like taffy.

Arms stretched, the creature lifted Metal in an arc, then slammed him toward a row of trees.

Branches scraped across Metal, snapping and tearing into his paint. The world was spinning around him. He was tumbling. He was trying to turn himself upright; he was trying to rev his engine. If he could just make it into the sky—

He slammed into a tree and tumbled to the ground. His processors were spinning. Which way was up? Which way was the monster?

Shaking, Metal scrambled to his feet. He directed as much power as he could to his engine. The delay was awful. It took seconds to start his engine, seconds he didn't have, and—

Silence.

There was nothing. There was no beast in front of him, preparing to strike. No beast behind him, fangs dripping with the oil of Silver Sonic. The forest was utterly still.

Empty.

Metal's next clock cycle computed only one thing.

Dread.

Out of the corner of his optics, the beast was sudden there. It charged at him with such speed and such dexterity, both utterly unnatural for a creature of its class.

It leaped at Metal, arms outstretched.

Metal only had time to flinch.

The creature slammed Metal to the ground. Dirt and branches flew all around him in a muddy blur. He skid. It was all he could do to cut his engine and let friction to slow him down. He then scrambled back up, his legs shaking.

The monster approached Metal with eyes lacking any hint of emotion. It raised its arm, ready to strike again.

In all his existence, Metal had never comprehended what it was to die. He had never given the matter any thought. Now though, now that death was staring down at him in the form of that unspeakable, hideous monster, the end was suddenly and terribly personal.

So this was it. Metal would meet his end by being torn apart by a mere animal. He would fail his orders. He would never defeat Sonic. His would be...nothing.

Metal threw his arm over his face, trembling.

Stillness, thin and tenuous, laid like a fog across the forest. Metal could only await the force of claws against his hard drive. They would cut right through him and tear apart his being.

Yet no strike came.

Instead, a semi-familiar voice said, "Wha—Metal Sonic? Where...?"

Metal peered over his arm. The creature was still there, but it had backed up. Its eyes had changed too. They were white with green pupils.

Metal recognized these eyes.

"You—you are…" Metal stood back up, although his knees were shaking. "Sonic!"

"Yeah?" Sonic sounded confused. He groaned, his hand going to rub his head as he sat down. "What happened?"

"How—" Metal started. None of this made any sense. What about Sonic's standard energy readings? And Silver Sonic's demise?

Those eyes.

"You are asking me what happened? How am I supposed to know such things?" Metal threw his hands up, gesturing to the destruction all around him. "It was like this when I arrived."

Metal then added, "What happened to _you_?"

Sonic raised a brow, but it quickly dropped back into a sad, confused gaze. "You don't know?"

Sonic glanced at Metal's armor, noticing the scratches for himself. "Oh, did I...?"

Sonic gazed down at his claws. Beneath the nails were filings of Metal's blue paint.

And then Sonic's expression changed to something Metal had never seen before.

Remorse.

Sonic looked back to Metal. "Eggman turned me into this. What, he didn't tell you?"

Wait...Eggman had done this? But then why hadn't he told Metal? That would have been _extremely useful_ to know. That information could have _saved Metal from total annihilation._

And yet, this was Sonic. Metal was supposed to defeat him. The very worst thing he could do is give away his own intel.

"Yes. I had known Eggman turned you into this. I simply wanted to verify you had not completely lost your mind," Metal said. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs wobbled, so he leaned on a tree instead.

Sonic frowned, approaching Metal. He reached his hand out and tested his claws against the gashes in Metal's chassis.

"That looks bad..." he muttered.

Sonic stood in conflicted silence.

"You need that fixed up?" Sonic finally asked, pointing. "Tails can probably repair that."

Offer repairs? How dare he! Sonic had such nerve sometimes. The disgusting hedgehog had turned into an even more disgusting giant wolf monster. Then he had nearly _killed_ Metal.

But that was the least of it. Now Sonic was pitying him.

But...perhaps this was an opportunity. Sonic was being an idiot. He trusted Metal. So even if there was no possible way for Metal to physically defeat Sonic now...there were other paths through the search space. There were other things he could do.

"You...you would have your friend repair me? Truly? But I am one of Eggman's robots. Why would you offer such a thing?"

"You've got nothing against Tails, right?" Sonic asked. "You only want me, and I didn't mean to attack you like this. Plus..."

Sonic trailed off, eyes dim as he looked back at the damage done to Silver Sonic. Sonic said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes.

If Sonic was going to give him an opportunity to make this easy, why would Metal turn that down?

"...Very well. I accept your offer."

Sonic nodded, surprised but not disappointed. Then his eyes drew down to Metal's shaking legs. "You want me to carry you?"

"No. Absolutely not. I will walk." Metal let go of the tree. He took a step forward. His legs buckled beneath him, and he began to fall.

Sonic reached forward, catching Metal with ease using one hand.

"That doesn't look like any walking _I've_ ever seen."

"I will walk—" Metal tried to heave himself out of Sonic's hand, which only caused him to sink further

Sonic rolled his eyes, shifting his hand to pick up Metal effortlessly.

"No, you won't."

Metal folded his arms and simply glared at Sonic. But Sonic ignored him entirely and was already walking back to Tails' lab.

Sonic furrowed his brow. Keeping Metal balanced on one hand, Sonic reached down with his other hand for the communicator attached to his leg.

He hesitated, the glare of the sun on the communicator's surface catching his attention. "Hey, what time is it?"

"It is obviously 06:31 and 29 seconds."

"Uh... right."

Sonic yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his free hand.

"Could we fix you later?" Sonic asked, looking over at Metal.

Metal's glare intensified. "Be more specific in your request."

Sonic blinked. "Later today? Tails is asleep right now."

Sonic hesitated then added, "But if it's power you're worried about, you can plug yourself into my wall at home."

"You mean I can come into your home and recharge whilst you slumber?"

Sonic raised a brow. "Sure, why not?"

Metal suddenly got very quiet and still, unmoving except the flicker of his optics.

Finally, he said, "This is acceptable."

Sonic nodded, changing course for his house.


	6. Chapter 6

Sonic's naivete was simply astounding. Not only had he brought his most dangerous enemy, Metal Sonic, into his own home, he hadn't even bothered to ensure his own security before falling asleep. He didn't even the decency to go back to his own room. Something about being "too tired."

So that left Metal here, sinking between the couch cushions with Sonic snoring on the other side of the sofa. He had no choice but to lay on the couch for the next eight hours and suck up power from an electrical outlet 15 amps at a time like some kind of expensive side lamp.

Sonic's house was abnormal too. His living room looked barely lived in. Every item, every floorboard, was clean to the point it bordered on brand new.

How stupid was Sonic, honestly? To leave Metal next to him while he slept? Metal was frankly insulted Sonic considered him this little of a threat.

But all that would soon change. The perfect opportunity had fallen into his lap.

He would take care of Sonic, once and for all.

His legs were still broken, but Metal had other options. The side table drawer was within his reach.

He leaned off the side of the couch and pulled the knob.

A pair of scissors laid inside the top drawer, sharp and shiny with newness. Metal held them, wrist limp, then gave a small flourish. The steel blades glistened with what little light the dark room contained.

Metal's own reflection looked back at him from the blades. He looked embarrassingly pitiful. Deep claw marks laid in thick, shiny streaks across his chassis. His legs were crumbled in an awkward angle. Even his ears were chipped.

The scissors were different. They were brand now, and they gleamed beautifully in the red glow of his optics. Pristine steel, never used. Sharp. When combined with the hydraulic force of his engine, these very blades would pierce Sonic's heart.

Sonic shifted, rolling over in his sleep. He buried his face into the back cushions of the couch. The white fur tufts of his chest rose tantalizingly with each breath.

Horrifying monster or not, everyone was vulnerable in their sleep.

Metal rerouted his power to his arms. He lifted the scissors.

This was his opportunity.

He thrusted his wrist down with the hydraulic force of hundreds of Newtons. The blades flashed as they pierced the air.

A hand caught Metal's wrist.

The blades stopped.

It all happened so quickly, so _unnaturally quickly._ Sonic gripped Metal's wrist with a force so strong Metal could feel his hand slightly crunch.

Sonic snored again.

That left Metal awkwardly hunched over Sonic's sleeping body. He tried to lean back, but his legs were still out, and he flopped over the couch cushions like a fish. He needed to get out of here. He tried to jam his other hand between the cushions, push off the frame of the couch, and lean back.

Finally, his hand jerked free, and Metal stumbled backward into the couch armrest.

At first, Sonic didn't move. He just laid there sleeping, arm still raised, hand still gripping the scissors.

Then his hand shook. The scissors disappeared between his fingers. There was a harsh crack.

Sonic's hand opened. Silver shrapnel fluttered out like confetti.

Sonic rolled back over.

Metal sank back into the pillows, letting the pillow on his head seal him inside a small mountain of upholstery. It was blissfully difficult to see Sonic through a pillow.

He could still hear the snoring.

So perhaps that hadn't been the best approach. Maybe scissors weren't the best weapon after all. But scissors hardly made up the whole set of weapons. Metal had a second plan.

Metal popped his head out from the pillows. Sonic was laying there, still asleep, still useless.

Metal drew up his hand. His claws weren't as shiny as the scissors, but the sharp tips still shone with the red glimmer of his reflected optics.

He could reroute his power. He had enough. 2,000 volts would do it. It was nearly his entire battery. But he was still plugged in. If he ran dry now, he would recharge. Slowly, but he would.

Electrocution required contact.

Metal inched forward. Delicately, he set his palm over Sonic's shoulder. He flinched.

Sonic snored.

The current started. A torrent of electrons moved from Metal's battery through the copper writing inside his arm, rushing to the tips of his fingers. Sonic was the sink in this circuit. The electrons would move into his muscles, searing flesh, tearing through nerves. They would then enter his heart. The heart needed electric signals. Too much of it, and the heart muscles, left without direction or purpose, would stop.

But none of this happened.

What happened instead involved his Chaos Energy scanner. There was an enormous energy spike radiating in the area. It was so powerful he could—

He could actually _see_ it.

Tendrils of energy, not exactly Chaos energy, flowed like smoke from Sonic's body. They wrapped around Metal's wrist, twisting around each other like a pair of snakes. Electric sparks glowed from Metal's hand, but instead of rushing into Sonic's body, they flowed into the tendrils and were swept away by the storm of Sonic's aura.

The sparks faded, and yet the tendrils did not. Instead, they began to snake up Metal's arm, wrapping around it like vines, feeling for weak points in his armor. Every crack and seam attracted a tendril.

The snoring stopped.

Not the snoring—his audio sensors. They were offline. His visual sensors were at 10% and dropping. He directed what little energy he has to his processors. The energy was gone from his battery. All he had was the 15 amp circuit from the wall. That was hardly enough. The tendrils were still searching.

Frantically, Metal surged every free electron of power to his arm. His motors responded. It was barely enough.

He ripped his palm from Sonic and tumbled backward, hitting his head against the arm rest.

His vision slowly returned. 20%. 30%. The ceiling came into view there. He could see it, even in the dim light. When he heard Sonic's snoring again, he was actually relieved.

His sensors came back online.

His power though, that was another matter. His battery was entirely drained, and it took the entire current from the wall to power himself at even a marginal level.

The tendrils dissipated back into Sonic's sleeping form.

The snoring stopped. Sonic stirred. His eyes opened slowly. He stared blankly at the ceiling. Then he groaned, rolling onto his stomach and letting his arm slouch off the couch. He stretched his fingers.

His fingers relaxed, but his arm remained outwards. Sonic was staring blankly at his own hand now, his eyes dim.

Finally, Sonic huffed and pushed himself upright until he was sitting on the couch. He glanced over at Metal then yawned.

His mouth was so wide, wide enough to chomp down on Metal's armor and rip it apart.

"Morning," Sonic murmured, still drowsy.

"A-ah…" Metal stammered. He backed into the corner of the couch. Even sitting down, Sonic was still looming over him.

Sonic reached for his own shoulders, giving them gentle massages and easing out his muscles.

"Or... afternoon," Sonic guessed, staring at the window. He looked back at Metal. "What time is it?"

"I-it-is-fifteen-fifteen—" Metal stammered.

"That's, uh, three or something, right?" Sonic asked, looking unsure.

He paused, glancing at Metal up and down. His expression turned to confused concern. "Hey, you okay?"

"P-power l-levels—c-critically low—"

Sonic raised a brow, looking over at the power outlet that Metal had plugged himself into. "Really?"

He scratched his head in thought. "I think I might still have a few of those huge batteries down in the basement. Tails keeps 'em here so he doesn't end up using them all in a day. Can you get power from that?"

Metal gaped. Did Sonic really not know? Had he really not been aware when his aura had literally sucked the power from Metal's battery?

"B-batteries do not work that way. I need to recharge with a stable source of power."

"Oh." Sonic looked disappointed but not offended. "But we need to get you fixed..."

Sonic looked down guiltily at the gashes in Metal's chassis. "What if you plug yourself into one of them and I'll carry you _and_ the battery to Tails' place?"

_This is insanity itself_ , Metal thought. _He has been possessed by some sort of horrible thing. He almost destroyed me. And now he wants to take me to Tails so badly that he will carry a_ battery _with us?_

"I...suppose that would work," Metal finally said. He really was in no place to argue.

Sonic nodded, getting off the couch. He started to sprint, but stopped. He sighed then walked out of Metal's view.

Metal sank back into the cushions. Sitting upright required power, and right now, he needed to save every volt he could get.

_I need to escape as soon as possible_ , Metal thought. _It is not safe here. That thing—_

That thing was his target. Eggman had given him his orders. He was to take care of Sonic.

But how could he possibly defeat something literally able to suck the electricity from his body?

* * *

Sonic travelled down the stairs, looking around at the vast basement. It was mostly empty. He really only used it for storage, and he honestly had very little to store anyway.

The batteries he had mentioned to Metal were resting in the corner of the room. Sonic approached them but paused as his thoughts drifted back to Tails.

He frowned, waiting a long moment before reaching back down and grabbing the communicator from his leg. He steeled himself then clicked the orange button.

A part of him hoped there wouldn't be an answer.

The line rang twice. He heard a familiar voice.

"Sonic—?"

Sonic stiffened. "H-hey, buddy." He cleared his throat. "What's up?"

A long pause. When Tails finally spoke, he sounded like he was nearly choking. "A-are you okay? You ran off and—oh, Sonic I was so worried. Are you okay?"

Sonic felt relief fill his chest. Tails wasn't mad at him. Tails wasn't even afraid.

"Yeah. Tails, I'm sorry. I was...I'll tell you later."

The communicator still felt awkward in his large hands, but he was managing. "Hey, mind if I come over? I know I cut my last visit short. I also kinda need a favor though."

He frowned. "I'd get it if you don't want to, after..." He trailed off.

"Sonic—" Tails took a deep breath. "Of course you can come over. Whatever you need. Are you feeling better?"

Sonic opened his mouth, ready to lie to Tails again. The memory of what happened last time immediately returned.

"I'm—" He hesitated. "...It's awful, okay? I spent all night in that other form _thing_ and it was _exhausting._ I didn't even wake up until just now, and I guess I almost tore Metal Sonic apart before I snapped out of it."

"Sonic…" Tails' voice was quiet. "It's okay. Even if your werehog form can't be reversed, I'm sure we'll be able to figure out what's causing these blackouts. Things will work out."

"Yeah." Sonic paused, glancing over to the stairs. It was only now occurring to him how weird this was going to sound.

"Uh, by the way, about that favor. Do you think you could repair Metal Sonic?"

A longer pause on the other line. "...Metal Sonic? Like _the_ Metal Sonic? The robot Eggman made to destroy you?"

Sonic made a gagging noise. Tails wasn't making him feel any less odd about this. "I know. It shouldn't matter, but I wasn't even hurt. I don't remember, but I don't think he even tried to attack me. I..."

He sighed, tone dropping. "I feel bad."

"So wait—you spent all night in...that other form. Then Metal Sonic shows up and you destroy it? I'm sorry Sonic, I can only imagine how difficult this is for you, but isn't defeating Metal Sonic something you do all of the time? Why do you need me to fix it?"

There was a stretch of silence from Sonic's end.

"Because that wasn't _me_ who did it, Tails. I trash Eggman's bots when they're doing something bad, not _just because._ I know it's dumb, but you weren't there. When I snapped out of it, Metal—"

He replayed the scene in his mind. It wasn't the full truth that he only trashed badniks when they were doing something wrong. After all, just about any badnik was scrap metal as far as he was concerned.

But when he remembered hovering over Metal, arm raised to kill, an unsettling feeling stirred in his chest.

"...I'm not a monster."

"So you…" Another pause. Tails sighed. "Alright. You can explain more when you get here, but...I guess you can bring him. Are you sure he's not dangerous?"

"As dangerous as a robot who can't walk," Sonic replied.

Chips of Metal's coloring were still lodged in his claws, and he didn't need to look to know that he still had pieces of Silver Sonic still in his fur. "I _really_ tore him up."

"...I see. Well, I can take a look at him when he's here, I guess? When are you coming?"

"I'm leaving now," Sonic answered, already reaching his free hand forward to pick up one of the massive batteries.

It was so much lighter than he anticipated.

"Thanks, buddy."

"Sure thing, Sonic. And—I'm glad you're safe. Really. We'll work this out."

The line dropped.

Sonic clicked the device off, letting out a deep breath.

Snapping the device back onto his leg, he held tight to the battery and walked back upstairs.

"Hey, Metal Sonic, ready to go?" he asked, looking over to Metal as he went into the living room.

Metal Sonic jumped. He was staring at Sonic with a look that bordered on panic. "A-affirmative."

Sonic nodded, then walked over, placing the battery next to Metal. He reached over to the power outlet, ready to unplug Metal's cord.

Would he break it? "Uh... maybe _you_ should do this."

Metal went to take his cord from Sonic's hand, which was laying over the outlet, but just as he was about to touch Sonic, he quickly pulled back, optics wide.

"Y-yes. I will do this."

Sonic moved his hand out of the way, standing off to the side.

Metal crawled up to the wall, keeping as much distance between himself and Sonic as he could. In a single, swift motion, he tore his plug from the outlet and snapped it into the battery.

Without warning, Sonic leaned forward, scooping Metal up in one hand and taking the battery in the other.

Metal stiffed, his hands clenched. He stared at Sonic through the corner of his optical screen.

Sonic made no mention of it. Instead, he made sure Metal and the battery were secure.

He walked towards the door then stopped. He looked between both Metal and the battery in his hands. "Mind getting the door for me?"

Metal suddenly shook his head, letting his hands relax. He glanced at the door then back to Sonic's arms. "I will carry the battery."

"Mm?" Sonic blinked, as if he'd never even considered the idea. "I guess that works too."

He dropped the battery into Metal's waiting hands.

Metal's hands plummeted, and he nearly toppled out of Sonic's arm. Only Sonic's firm grip stopped him from falling.

"This—very heavy—" Metal croaked, still struggling. "I did not think it would be so; you were carrying it so easily."

"Is it your power?" Sonic guessed. Surely something so light to him wouldn't be that hard for Metal? Then again, maybe all the Dark Gaia energy in his body might have made him even stronger than he was before.

Sonic opened the door, closing it behind himself as he stepped outside. He placed his hand over the top of the battery. "Want me to take it back?"

"I can carry—" Metal's engine made a faint, whining noise. His arms shook.

Sonic reached out without hesitation, snatching the battery back.

"Don't worry. I got it."

Metal said nothing. He simply stared at Sonic, who was carrying it as if it were made of paper.

Sonic himself had already turned his gaze away from Metal, focusing on the direction that would lead them to Tails' lab.

"Alright, let's go."


	7. Chapter 7

"Tails?" Sonic peeked his head inside the lab. He was still holding Metal and the battery with tremendous care.

The inside of the lab itself had degraded considerably since Sonic had last seen it. It was as if a storm of chaos and paper had blown through, transforming everything in its wake into piles of neon yellow sticky notes. The only consistency laid in Tails himself, who was still sitting at his workbench scribbling indecipherable equations along thin sheets of notebook paper.

Tails must have heard Sonic open the door because he turned his head. "Sonic?"

"Hey, buddy," Sonic said, only slightly awkwardly. At least he felt a little better than last time. Maybe holding both Metal and the battery gave him a measure of support.

"Come in," Tails said. But when Sonic entered the room, Tails' eyes widened.

"So you really did bring Metal Sonic. Huh."

"Yeah." Sonic swallowed, avoiding eye contact. He sheepishly scooted over to Tails' examination table where he sat Metal down, placing the battery next to him.

Tails narrowed his eyes and stared at Metal. Metal met Tails' gaze directly, although he did lean behind the battery and clutched it protectively.

Tails took one look at Metal's damage then said, "He's one of Eggman's. Just take him back."

Sonic didn't respond to Tails directly. Instead, he said to Metal, "Wouldn't Egghead throw a fit if he saw you all beat up?"

Metal flinched, as if in physical pain. When he finally did speak, he made eye contact with neither of them.

"The doctor would be exceedingly displeased to witness my return in this condition."

Sonic frowned. Metal was hurt, and not even his own creator would readily help him. Maybe it was ridiculous, but Sonic just had to help him. Sonic helped everyone.

Sonic asked, "Can you fix him, Tails?"

Tails picked up a screwdriver. He tossed it in one hand, his other hand behind his back, as he walked up to Metal. He hesitated, biting on the handle of the screwdriver. Then he leaned forward and picked up Metal's arm.

Metal squirmed.

Tails said, "Hmm...yeah, I think this is a simple enough repair. Just a few loose bearings is all."

"Oh." Sonic nodded, relieved that he didn't damage Metal that badly.

Still holding Metal's arm up, Tails glanced back at Sonic. "You really want me to fix him?"

"Yeah," Sonic replied. "If I'm gonna beat him, I want it to be in a real fight."

Tails sighed. "Alright. I'll do it for you, Sonic."

"Thanks, buddy."

Sonic's eyes trailed down to his body. "And me—I have to clean my fur." He paused. "Again."

He glanced at Metal one more time then disappeared into the other room.

Tails turned back to Metal, and before Metal even had time to respond, Tails jammed the screwdriver into the seam between Metal's head and body, forcing Metal's head backward at an unnatural angle. Tails leaned in, giving the screwdriver a twist.

"You heard me," Tails said, voice a half whisper, half growl. "I'm doing this for Sonic. You got that? He's been through a lot, and the last thing he needs, I repeat, the very last thing he needs is for you to betray him."

Metal went to respond, but he was cut off by Tails applying more pressure with the screwdriver.

"Are we on the same page?"

Metal glared at Tails with a burning, defiant stare. His fingers twitched, as if to swat away the screwdriver from Tails' grip, but then he hesitated.

"Understood."

Tails withdrew the screwdriver and returned to his tool bench.

"I'm glad you can be reasoned with. Very well then, let me see what I can do."

* * *

Sonic walked back into the room, running his claws through his fur to confirm it was clear of shrapnel.

After a moment of checking, he glanced up to see if Tails had finished repairing Metal.

Sonic whistled. "You look great."

His eyes shifted to Tails. "Nice work, buddy."

Metal was sitting on the workbench, kicking his legs back and forth experimentally.

Tails nodded. "You're welcome, Sonic. The repair was simple enough."

His gaze narrowed. "Isn't that right, Metal Sonic?"

Metal stiffened mid kick. He nodded slowly.

Sonic went to place his hand on Tails' shoulder but stopping himself.

The memories of last night were still fresh in his mind.

"Really, thanks, Tails. I know you didn't want to."

Tails set the screwdriver down on the workbench and offered his hand to Sonic, smiling.

"Hey, it's no problem. How are you feeling?"

Sonic looked away, making no movement to take Tails' hand.

"H-heh, you already know the answer to that."

Tails sighed, scratching the back of his head and turning his gaze away from Sonic. After a long pause, he set his hand on Sonic's shoulder, standing on the top of his feet to reach, and gestured toward the small break area in the corner of his lab.

"Come on, Sonic. Let's talk about it."

Sonic didn't smile, but a lighter tone returned to his voice. "You're not really gonna make me talk about my feelings are you?"

Tails led Sonic over to a small, wooden chair with a faded, fraying cushion laid haphazardly over the seat.

"Sure, if you wanna talk about those, I'm all ears. And there's also the data." Tails pulled out a small tablet. A random array of numbers scroll along the screen.

Sonic snorted softly, although it sounded rough in his werehog voice. "Well you already took me in here and everything."

He sat down on the seat. Sonic had no doubts about how amusing he must have looked sitting in such a small chair.

"What's the data say?"

Tails turned the tablet, giving Sonic a clearer view of the screen. "These data are about your blackouts. I've been combing through the numbers, and your Dark Gaia energy levels spike during those times. I think I have an idea about what might be causing it, but I wanted to ask you first: do you remember anything specific about how you feel, both physically and emotionally, before those blackouts hit you?"

Sonic's frown deepened. He averted his gaze to the floor. He really didn't want to be here, in this chair, having this conversation, but he had no choice. He tried to focus on those last two moments he could remember.

"That time with Silver Sonic...I don't know. We were just fighting. He nailed me in the face and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm still not used to being like this all the time, so I was feeling pretty worn out and—"

Sonic snapped his fingers for emphasis. "—I lost it."

He hunched over, staring down at his spiked shoes. "And after I ran off on you, I just went to try and clear my head, but..."

He trailed off, rubbing the side of his head. "I felt so bad, and I was exhausted from running."

The words stung his throat.

"I couldn't really think. I kind of knew the feeling by then but—" He turned turned his head as far away from Tails as he could. "—I guess I just didn't care."

Tails chewed his lower lip. He didn't look up from the screen. "Makes sense. It's kinda in line with what I thought…"

Sonic looked over to Tails, unsure if he should be hopeful or not. "What'd you think?"

"The fight-or-flight response. That's what I think it is. When things get too stressful or your life's in danger, your body makes use of whatever it can to survive. Including your Dark Gaia energy."

Sonic nodded slowly. He had to admit it made sense, even if he didn't like it. "So basically I've been losing myself because I've been so down, yeah?"

"I think so. You've been mentally stressed, so physical threats are that much worse. It drives your body and taps into the Dark Gaia energy the same way it might tap into something normal, like adrenaline or cortisol. Except the Dark Gaia energy isn't normal, so while it might make you strong, it also makes you lose control."

"Great."

Sonic leaned back. The chair creaked. Sonic attempted to cross his arms, but he still wasn't used to them, and it took him a moment to align them correctly.

This was his normal now. He just had to accept it.

He sighed. "So I better hurry up and get over myself then, huh?"

"Sonic." Tails' voice was barely above a whisper. "You've been through a lot. I think it's normal to feel a little rough right now. You don't have to just 'get over' yourself.

"That being said," Tails set the tablet down on a nearby table, "I don't think a little rest would hurt. Just to help you calm down a little, you know?"

Sonic opened his mouth to respond, but stopped, ear twitching.

There were footsteps.

Metallic footsteps.

Sonic looked up.

Metal Sonic was standing in the doorway with the air of a novice delivery boy. A small saucer sat in his hands, and atop that was a single cup of piping hot tea, steam rising visibly in the air. He shuffled over to Sonic, taking care not to spill, and presented the tea to him as if it were a signed declaration of peace.

"The fox is not wrong," Metal said, although he added in a hushed whisper, "for once."

He then continued without pause. "You should relax. Tea is said to help with this objective."

"Uh—" Sonic blinked, staring down at the cup in Metal's hand. He had assumed that Metal had either left Tails' lab already or maybe he had remained sitting on the workbench, but this?

This was not what he expected.

"Thanks?"

Sonic reached forward.

Tails narrowed his gaze. Metal almost made eye contact through the corner of his optics, but looked away quickly. Extremely quickly.

A little too quickly.

Metal Sonic was a robot, but Tails knew robots. He also knew this look. Metal was trying to hide it, but it was plastered all over his robot face regardless. It was the same look Sonic got when he was trying, and failing, to hide something.

But what would Metal be trying to hide inside a simple cup of tea?

Tails pressed the ball of his heels to the floor. The words were rising from his throat. He had to stop Sonic before—

The cup was suddenly in the air. Something must have thrown it. The cup shattered against the wall. Liquid and shards of ceramic went careening everywhere.

Sonic's arm—which had previously been reaching out to grab the cup—grabbed Tails in a single, swift motion and pulled him against Sonic's chest protectively.

Sonic's free arm remained outwards, his hand where the cup had been. Sonic stared blankly at it for a long moment, flexed his fingers, then let his arm drop back to his side.

"...G-geez, sorry. I-I don't know why I did that," Sonic said. "My arm just...acted on its own."

He looked down at Tails, not making any movement. His mind was as clear as a calm lake, and his body hadn't made any involuntary motions in Tails' direction. "Sorry about your cup, buddy."

Metal, to his credit, remained as calm. He stood still, optics gazing straight ahead, not meeting either Sonic's nor Tails' gaze. And yet, it was the little details of his posture that gave him away. His fingers twitched, his gaze refused to wander, and the stood just a little too straight.

It was also the fact he didn't say anything.

"No worries, Sonic," Tails said. His voice was indiscernible, yet with just a hint of fear. "I have a lot of cups anyway."

"I'll, uh," Sonic released Tails, the chair creaking as he got up, "take care of this."

He knelt down and began scooping up shards in his claws. His motions were stiff, and he was careful not to twist his wrists too much.

No one would see the burns along his palms that way.

Tails brushed his fur, took a deep breath, and then turn back to Metal Sonic. For just a brief instant, he was able to catch Metal's gaze, and met it with an intense, knowing scowl.

Metal took a quick step backward, looking in Tails' direction but not directly at him, and grabbed a cloth hanging off the side of Tails' workbench.

"I-I will assist with cleaning operations," Metal stammered.

"What?" Sonic turned to Metal with a raised brow. A small heap of shards sat in his hand. "Seriously?"

Metal gave the most stiff nod in the known universe and dropped the towel onto the floor. He then began to scrub it vigorously, soaking up every single droplet of tea into the cloth. Once the floor was drier than the Mazuri desert, Metal stood back up and offered his palm to Sonic.

"I will dispose of these shards as well. It is because I, uh, wish to show you my," Metal choked, as if the words hurt him physically to say, "gratitude."

Sonic gave Metal a strange look, but shrugged and dropped the pieces into Metal's hand.

"Yes. Good. Excellent." Metal's optics darted from Tails to Sonic, back to Tails again, then to the floor, making sure he had got every scrap. He then bolted toward the door without saying another word.

"Hm." Sonic stood up. He turned to Tails. "You okay?"

Tails nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm okay. How about you? Feeling alright?"

"Yeah."

Sonic's eyes lingered on Tails, then he looked away. His ear twitched. "You were afraid of me. Afraid of this."

"I—I—" Tails hesitated for a moment then sighed. "It all happened so suddenly, you know? It wasn't really you. And anyway—"

Tails eyed the door where Metal had left. "I'm pretty sure he was trying to poison you."

"You don't have to feel bad for being afraid, buddy," Sonic said, not even acknowledging the comment about Metal Sonic. "I get it. I'm huge, got claws and fangs, and could probably crush just about anything I get my hands on."

He shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll come back when I'm really feeling better."

He walked into the other room before Tails could reply, looking left and right. "Hey, Metal Sonic!"

Metal stiffened. He quickly dumped the last remnants of the cup into Tails' trash compactor, and with the press of a button, the machine started with a grinding wail.

"Yes. That is me. I am here. I was always here. I never left."

Sonic gave a soft snort. "So, are you heading back to Eggman's place then?"

Sonic cringed internally. He didn't even call him Egghead this time.

"I, ah—" Metal hesitated. "I do not have to return immediately."

"Do you still need to charge?" Sonic gestured his thumb towards the examination table, where the battery was still lying.

Metal eyed the battery warily and nodded slowly. "While I was able to store some residual energy, the fox had to disconnect my battery during the repair process, and so I have not yet properly recharged."

"Huh." Sonic didn't really get it, but went along. "Well, just don't stick around here, all right? Pretty sure Tails wouldn't like that."

Sonic headed for the front door.

Metal hesitated then said, "Sonic—"

His voice came out higher pitched than he would have liked, but Metal continued, "I cannot—I cannot carry this battery—I cannot move it."

Sonic stopped, looking back at the battery. Perhaps Metal was still too low on power.

He walked back, taking the battery in his hands and turning it over before finally looking at Metal.

"So what, you wanna just stay at my place until you're fully charged?"

Metal pressed his palms together. "I do not believe I have a choice. The fox has made it most clear I am unwelcome here, and I cannot make it back to the doctor in time, so I believe this would be the optimal action, yes."

Sonic simply stared at Metal. Metal Sonic, his enemy, staying with him again, and after being fully repaired?

A snort escaped Sonic. He turned his head away, shifting the battery to one hand. When he looked back at Metal, there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Sure. Sure, why not?" He shrugged. "Come on. You can even make yourself at home once we get there."

This was ridiculous.

"This is the optimal solution, yes." Metal stepped up to Sonic, holding out his hand. Inside of it was his charing cable, still connected to his chassis. "I can, at least, walk myself this time, although I still require temporary access to the battery so I may charge as we proceed."

"Hm? Oh, right."

Sonic held out the battery to Metal. Its enormous bulk was like a feather in his hands.

Metal stepped up to Sonic quickly, lingering no longer than what was required to snap the plug in place, then turned away.

"This is sufficient. We may go now."

Sonic nodded, then headed out the front door with Metal, taking great focus in how much pull the battery was getting to ensure that he wasn't walking too far ahead of Metal.

Metal took one last glimpse at the lab, catching a glimpse of Tails' scowling at him again, until the cable tugged at him and he had to stumbled ahead to catch up. Sonic was as large as ever, and he was still carrying the battery, which had to weigh at least a hundred kilograms by Metal's estimate, as if it were nothing.

It wasn't long until Sonic led him outside, like a dog on a leash, except maybe reversed. The air temperature would be around 15 degrees centigrade. Pleasant weather, or so he had been told.

Metal hated walking. He hated it almost as much as he hated Sonic. It was so slow, so inefficient. Time was a valuable commodity, and their slow hike back to Sonic's house was equivalent to lighting a field of oil on fire so far as Metal was concerned.

Sonic said little on their walk back. He was always a step ahead of Metal, heading down toward the dirt, kicking small pebbles of gravel as he walked. Even though Sonic appeared reasonably calm, and therefore unlikely to suck the very electricity from Metal's body, Metal still found himself jumping ever so slightly each time Sonic sent a pebble careening through the forest.

The aura of dark energy was still surrounding him, but it was thin now, stable, laid over Sonic like the atmosphere laid over the planet. Metal had collected perhaps more data on this aura than he had most other things in the world. How could he not? It was impossible for him to take his sensors off of something so horrifying.

Which did give him an idea. His scheme back in the lab had obviously not worked, and as much as he wished he could blame the fox, his data proved otherwise. The aura was responsible for his failure. It had flared just as Metal had handed Sonic the tea.

And yet...the fox was the key, wasn't he? Because Sonic had never hurt Tails, even when his aura had flared. Why was that? Was it because Tails wasn't a threat? Was that the only reason?

If so, it implied a disturbing conclusion. Metal couldn't hurt Sonic, not when the powers of Dark Gaia itself seemed to protect him at every turn. This left Metal with very few options.

He was supposed to "take care of Sonic." That is what the doctor had said. He did not, however, specify how.

And if violence would not work, Metal Sonic would have to find another method.


	8. Chapter 8

Entering his house, Sonic still held Metal's battery in his hand. It was warm with the flow of electricity. He glanced back at Metal, ensuring that he was still there.

Sonic frowned. "So, Metal Sonic, Eggman been up to anything since I trashed his base in Mazuri?" Sonic normally would have been smug, but now he sounded more concerned than anything.

Metal tried to hesitate, but he was still plugged into the battery, and Sonic kept walking, so Metal had to take a quick step forward to keep up with Sonic.

Metal pondered for a moment. Then very deliberately, he said, "The doctor is engaged in his usual activities."

Sonic's demeanor noticeably dropped. "Hm."

He set the battery down on the floor, making a mental note to take care of it later, then plopped down on the couch. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. He's always up to no good."

Metal gazed at the battery for a moment, as if it were the key to some puzzle. He tapped it with the side of his foot.

Then Metal unplugged himself, hobbled over to the couch, and quickly slapped his plug into the wall. "Why do you ask?"

Sonic watched Metal with mild interest. "Why wouldn't I? Might as well ask about him as long as you're here." He stared down at his claws. "I'll have to stop him if he tries anything funny, even if I don't really want to right now."

Metal squeezed into the furthest corner of the couch, as if he were trying to fold himself into nothing. "You do not want to? What does that mean? Was stopping the doctor but a game to you before?"

Sonic shrugged. "A little. I don't want him getting hurt though."

Metal narrowed his gaze. "So it _was_ a game all along to you then. But what of now?"

Sonic raised a brow. Metal was extraordinarily curious, suspiciously so. But in the gaps of their conversation, his mind wandered back to his claws. His fangs. His fur.

Sonic muttered, "You saw what I did to you. _You_ can be repaired, but Egghead wouldn't be as lucky."

Metal folded his arms and leaned back, slowly sinking into the couch cushions. "You are so afraid you will hurt the doctor. Truly that is it? That is your concern, even though he is your greatest enemy? I do not know if I should be in awe or simply offended."

"Offended?" Sonic repeated back to Metal, confused.

Metal glared. "Yes! Offended! You are acting as if the doctor and myself are so helpless that you have to simply restrain yourself lest you single handedly rip us to shreds. It is as if you do not believe we are capable of posing a threat."

Sonic blinked, surprised that Metal could actually _feel_ offended. Nevertheless, he rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh and slumping onto the arm of the couch.

"It's not like that." He paused, then stared down at the floor. "I'm supposed to stop Eggman, but not if it means killing anyone. Not even him."

Metal folded his arms, steeling his gaze at Sonic. "Unbelievable. Do you not know how ridiculous this sounds? You are afraid you are _so strong_ that, instead of merely defeating the doctor, you would simply put an end to him. Would this not specifically solve your problem?"

Sonic huffed. "You didn't see what happened back at Mazuri. I mean, I didn't either, but I knew what I—"

He hesitated. "— _it_ was feeling, and it wasn't anything good. I could've seriously hurt Eggman."

He gave a small glance back at Metal. "Eggman...wasn't hurt when you saw him, right?"

Metal studied Sonic's face for a moment.

"You actually care," Metal said, stunned and yet with a hint of exasperation. "The doctor is your single greatest enemy, and you _actually care_ about him."

"Is that a yes?" Sonic questioned unsurely.

"You are impossible!" Metal threw his hands up, shaking his head. "Yes. The doctor is entirely unharmed."

Metal then shuddered, sinking back into the couch. "Although the same cannot be said of Silver Sonic."

"Then you get why I'm dangerous," Sonic said, brushing a hand over his chest fur. He could still feel the phantom remains of Silver Sonic's scrap all over him.

He took a deep breath, holding it in his cheeks. He already knew that Eggman was at least alive, but this was even better. Eggman was completely and totally okay.

"Look, it's one thing to smash around Egghead's bots, and I'm sure _he_ enjoys trying to kill me, but that doesn't mean I want him dead."

Metal rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, we have already established your thorough insanity in this domain. If anything, whatever that... _force_ , let us call it, is inside of you, it is perhaps making you more sane, if anything…"

"Sane?" Sonic sat up with a start, suddenly glaring at Metal. "You think it's _sane_ for me to go around killing anyone that tries to hurt me?"

Metal ran his finger over one of the grooves etched into the copper atop his hand. "There...did seem to be a significant risk of false positives in your last approach."

Sonic rubbed his forehead, not understanding what Metal even meant. "You don't get it. Killing people is _wrong."_

"Your argument is hardly compelling."

Sonic rolled his eyes. "Seriously? What if I'd _really_ destroyed you yesterday?"

Sonic sighed, not knowing why he was getting so irritated. Of _course_ Metal wouldn't understand; he was a robot.

"If you really had destroyed me? I had never considered." Metal optics flickered. It took a moment, but he finally muttered, "I would prefer not to be destroyed if given the choice."

Sonic glanced over at Metal, ear twitching at the tone in Metal's voice. He hadn't expected Metal to actually consider such a fate nor to seem almost... _disturbed_ by the idea.

Sonic paused, then shook his head, erasing his current train of thought. "A-anyway, it was already bad enough that I look like this. I don't like losing control of myself too, even if it saves me in the end."

"I understand why losing control would be suboptimal," Metal said. "But you are truly concerned about your appearance?"

Sonic snorted, leaning back on the arm of the chair. "What? You think I look just as good as I used to?"

Metal shrugged, utterly nonplussed. "You appearance could hardly matter. That is a ridiculous question."

"Uh—what?" Sonic blinked. That was not the response he was expecting. "Well...I mean, some people freaked out at the sight of me before. Can't exactly do my hero stuff as easily if I look like a monster. They might not trust me."

"But that would be an irrational response. You appearance is merely how you look." Metal's gaze sharpened. "It implies nothing about your trustworthiness."

Sonic went dead silent at that. Wouldn't judging based on sight be in Metal's code? Judging on personality seemed so...complex.

"You really think so? You don't care?" Sonic asked dumbly, hardly thinking before blurting it.

"No. Your appearance is irrelevant. Although," Metal paused, "this seems to be a substantial burden to you. Why does it bother you so? Is your perceived trustworthiness your sole concern?"

Sonic averted his gaze, hunching over and clasping his hands together.

"No, it's..." He sighed. "I hate how I look too. Not only is my speed gone, but not a _single_ part of me stayed the same."

He gestured down towards his feet. "Even my _shoes_ changed! It's like I'm not even _me_ anymore."

Metal looked skeptical, but his voice was quieter when he spoke. "Not a single part of you stayed the same? And how do you know that? Have you even had a proper physical exam in this form? You are making claims without data."

"I mean, isn't it obvious?" Sonic brought his hands up to his chest. "Haven't really looked in a mirror, but I _feel_ it. Besides, even if I _wanted_ to get some sort of crazy physical for it, _no one_ would have all the details about my old self."

"Pardon," Metal folded his arms, "but I believe you are overlooking a fact of critical importance."

Metal pointed at himself. "I have all possible data on your old form. So while you are correct that proper comparison would require some sort of baseline, that baseline is something I have well established."

"...Oh yeah," Sonic said after a pause. He stared down at himself.

Well it wouldn't hurt to check.

Sonic coughed. "So, do you just scan me, or—"

Metal actually laughed at that. "Scan you? Do not be ridiculous. That only happens in movies. Do you have any idea how data is generated? You do not _just scan it_."

Metal peeled himself away from the corner of the couch. "I will need to physically examine you so—"

Metal froze. Even for a robot, Metal was hard to read. But Sonic was astute, and he knew the look he saw flicker across Metal's face.

It was fear.

Sonic turned away. "Nevermind. You don't have to if you don't want to."

Metal shook his head then leaned forward again. "No, that would be unacceptable. I need data in order to—"

Metal beeped. "In order to confirm the changes. Yes. That is it."

Metal scooted even closer to Sonic, stopping a breath's length from Sonic. His hand hovered delicately just above Sonic's forearm.

"Data must be collected properly, which includes full measurements of your tendons and muscles."

Sonic looked on, completely oblivious even as Metal's hand hovered over his arm. "Okay. What does that mean?"

"It means data must be gathered physically." And without saying another word, Metal dropped his hand to Sonic's forearm. He paused for a moment, and then as if on cue, he squeezed his hand. Sonic's forearm was too thick to properly measure from just a single angle, so he drew his hand down, lodging it against Sonic's bicep as he squeezed again.

"M-metal—" The rest of Metal's name was cut off as Sonic blushed in embarrassment. Metal was _feeling his arm._ Sonic looked around. At least no one else was around to see this.

Metal continued his examination, rotating his grasp around Sonic's arm in discrete, rhythmic movements, similar to the hands of a clock.

He kept his eyes down, focusing on his measurements. "Your blood pressure appears elevated."

Sonic snorted a bit despite his embarrassment. "That's _all_ you noticed?"

"Hardly." Metal worked his way upward. When he reached Sonic's shoulder, Metal placed one hand on Sonic's chest, the other on his back, applying light pressure from both sides. "Hmm. Interesting."

"Uh—" Sonic blinked, recoiling back very slightly from how close Metal was. "What is?"

Metal's grip was precise, so when Sonic tried to recoil, it simply dragged Metal along with him. "While the relative energy density of your body remains the same, it appears as if its distribution has been reallocated. Before, fast-twitch fibers composed the bulk of your muscle mass. Now the composition has reversed. Your slow-twitch muscles have grown."

Sonic didn't understand a word of what Metal said, but he had little choice but to go with it. "So, it's different then? Like I said?"

"Different, yes. But it is not randomly different. It is different within such a constrained set of parameters so as to be more of a transformation of existing data rather than a full difference."

Metal leaned closer. His hands continued to explore Sonic's muscle composition, squeezing and pausing, until he came to Sonic's neck. His hands lingered there, fingers pressed just above Sonic's artery.

"Fascinating," Metal muttered.

Sonic let out a small noise, tilting his head appropriately for Metal to feel. He was tempted to tell Metal to back off, but now this test seemed more like a challenge than anything. An endurance test to prove who was right.

He inhaled. "H-heh, you gonna make me ask you every time what you're thinking about?"

Metal's hands felt higher up Sonic's neck, nearly reaching his jawline. Metal lingered there for a moment, and then as quickly as he had started, Metal pulled away.

"Your skin and fur have grown remarkably thick. It makes it hard to get an accurate reading. But I believe your cardiovascular capacity remains exactly the same."

"Does that...matter?" Sonic sounded unsure. "Pretty sure a few of my insides changed anyway."

He gagged. "I felt it."

Metal turned his head. His optics flickered, their glow increasing with his curiosity. "You believe your internal composition has changed as well? Then I will need to gather additional measurements."

Without another word, Metal slid forward again. In his new form, Sonic was much bigger than him, so Metal had to practically throw himself over Sonic's lap to reach his opposite side. He trailed his hands up and down Sonic's side, mimicking that same, precise rhythm as before.

"It does appear your conjecture has some merit."

Sonic was out of room on the couch, or he he would have backed up further. Instead, the only thing he could do is avoid Metal's gaze. "I-I mean...I guess it makes sense, right? With my body so much bigger now."

Metal drew one of his hands down, resting it along Sonic's midriff.

"Indeed. For example, your liver is here, and its relative size appears to have increased. I assume this is so your body may more easily process the metabolic byproducts of your new muscle forms."

"So...it's made for keeping me strong?"

That was actually fairly cool. Just a little.

"Yes. That is correct." Metal pulled back. He simply sat on the couch for a moment. But as his optics flickered again, he dropped off the couch, landing in front of Sonic. He cupped his hands along the lower part of Sonic's leg, just above his heel. "Your bone density appears to have grown as well."

Sonic squirmed. His new legs still felt the most alien of all his body.

"Y-yeah, but all the speed in 'em's gone." Sonic paused. He didn't like to admit it, but it was as true as the night was long. "You'd easily beat me in a race."

Metal froze. For a long moment, he said simply nothing. Then, slowly, Metal knelt up just enough to look at Sonic over Sonic's knees.

"That...that is true. I am faster than you now."

"Wow, thanks," Sonic mumbled sarcastically.

Sonic turned, elbow against the arm of the couch as he slumped, cheek resting in his palm. He didn't know why he'd brought it up to Metal. It had only made him feel worse.

"Now you get why I hate being like this." Sonic sighed, running his free hand along his arm. "You know, it had always been kinda fun racing you."

"It was...fun?"

Metal dropped away, sitting on the floor with his palms pressed to the carpet. "I never thought you actually enjoyed our races. Were they not the means to an end for you?"

Sonic shrugged. "I guess they should've been, but..."

Sonic folded his arms against the armrest, his head resting atop them. "I dunno. It was nice having someone so fast to race with. No one could keep up with me like you could."

"...Interesting," Metal said, although his tone had changed, more thoughtful, less certain. "You really mean this? You did not think me just another of Eggman's machines?"

Sonic peeked over at Metal through the corner of his eye. He studied him like a puzzle he couldn't figure out.

His answer was quiet.

"...I used to," he admitted, "but not anymore."

Metal met Sonic's gaze. There was no hostility there, no anger. Only a deep, profound confusion that immediately turned into shock.

Metal stood up quickly, inching back toward the couch and searching along the wall for his plug.

He gave Sonic an uneasy look. "I have to step out for a moment."

"Hm?" Sonic straightened. "Okay?"

Metal nodded in appreciation. Keeping his back toward Sonic, he took a few, quick steps backward and slipped out the front door.

As soon as the door was safely closed behind him, Metal clicked on his radio.

"This is Metal Sonic. I read you."

"Metal Sonic!" Eggman's voice rang through. "Status report! You've been gone for so long! Where have you been? Have you defeated Sonic yet?"

His voice lowered. "Did you _fail?_ "

Metal paused. "Working toward the objective. No. And no."

Eggman huffed. "So you're taking your sweet time then? I thought I'd built you for speed, Metal Sonic. Explain."

"It is as I said: I am working toward the objective. If it has taken long that is because I encountered some delays that would have been avoidable if you had given me more mission critical data."

Metal turned his head upward. The faintest glow peaked above the trees along the horizon, signifying the break of early morning.

Another huff came through the line, now more offended. "And just _what_ do you mean by that? Are you blaming _me_ for your failures?"

"Negative. I am simply stating that it would have been useful to have been giving updated information on the target, especially when said target happened to be transformed into a savage _beast_."

Suddenly, Eggman laughed. "Isn't it great? He's absolutely _miserable,_ isn't he?"

"He...certainly is." Metal paused, watching the sun's glow bloom over the trees. "But unless your plan was specifically to make Sonic miserable, I am not certain what this achieves."

Metal shuddered. That night—he had seen Silver Sonic.

"Bah! Details." Metal could almost see Eggman's wave of dismissal. "There were some complications. That's all."

Eggman's voice dropped again. "That's why I'd sent _you,_ Metal Sonic. You're not giving up, are you?"

"Given that you did not program me to 'give up', I can assure you I have made no such mistake. I merely had to...readjust my parameters for the new information. I am currently pursuing priority one hedgehog as we speak."

"Good. Keep at it and come back in one piece." Eggman paused. " _Don't_ disappoint me."

Eggman hung up.

Metal shook his head, as if to dislodge the remainder of Eggman's voice from his audio sensors. But Metal was dealing with Dr. Eggman after all. Only the doctor would go through all this trouble of programming Metal with sentience only then to micromanage his every action.

Great, pink lines streaked across the sky, and the glow had diffused into an intangible ball of light as the sun rose behind a cloud.

Metal took a step backward. The cheap, coated steel of the doorknob brushed his hand.

Whatever Eggman said, Metal would carry through his mission.

He would take care of Sonic.


	9. Chapter 9

Teaspoon—now that was a good word. Metal could appreciate a word like that. It was descriptive, useful, and the object it referred to would suit Metal's needs perfectly.

Holding the teaspoon with the tips of his fingers, Metal pulled out a small heap of sugar from the ceramic sugar bowl then tapped the spoon gently against its edge. It was easy to overlook levenening the sugar but this was, perhaps, the most important step. He needed a teaspoon, not a teaspoon plus a heap. The measurement was to be exact.

Tilting the spoon at precisely a 20 degree angle, Metal poured the sugar granules into the tea; an earl grey blend Metal had found in the back of Sonic's kitchen cabinet. Then using both hands to keep the cup steady, Metal wandered from the kitchen back into the living room.

Sonic was still asleep there. That hedgehog-turned-mangy-mutt seemed incapable of using a bed.

Sonic's ear twitched as Metal came closer. He slowly stirred, sitting up and presumably shaking the sleep away.

"Metal? You're still here?" he asked.

"I am still here, yes. I had to spend the full day recharging my battery, and so I have not yet had a chance to leave."

That was basically a complete lie. While Metal's battery had initially been low, it wouldn't have taken more than an hour or two to recharge it to the required levels. But Sonic was too dumb to notice that, and Metal still had an experiment to run.

Metal held out the tea.

"I made this for you to adjust to your new sleep cycle. It is a breakfast tea to assist with awakening."

Sonic was surprised. "You made me tea?"

Sonic's ears twitched as he took the cup.

Metal watched Sonic with rapt attention, his sensors utterly focused on Sonic's aura. If anything happened, Metal would record it.

Sonic stared at the cup. He brought it to his mouth, almost hesitating, then closed his eyes and took a sip.

His eyes shot open, ears perking as he pulled the cup away from his mouth. He sniffed the liquid.

"It's...good," Sonic said, pleasantly surprised. " _Really_ good."

"It is," Metal said, although the surprise in his voice made it sound almost like a question. "The key to a successful blend is to avoid over steeping the leaves, thus eliminating the bitter aftertaste associated with the lower quality teas."

Metal was still watching the aura though, whose stillness was nearly uncanny.

The only explanation was that the aura seemed to react to danger.

"Huh." Sonic looked back down at the tea, taking another sip. "I just—I don't know; I figured you wouldn't know how to do it, being a robot and all."

Metal folded his arms. "Well then you have several false assumptions to reconsider. Tea blending, as well as cooking more specifically, is a form of chemistry. Anyone with a working knowledge of stoichiometry could succeed."

Sonic's only response was a nod. He stared back down at the tea, then gulped the rest of it down in one go.

"Heh, you want this back?" he asked with slight amusement, offering the cup back to Metal.

Metal reached out. "Yes, I can take—"

In their prior examination, Metal hadn't paid much attention to Sonic's hands. But in this lighting, Metal had a much clearer view of Sonic's new, blue skin, and something was wrong. A dark, red smudge was cut along Sonic's palm, puffed and swollen in that way only day-old wounds can.

Metal plucked the cup from Sonic's hand and set it down on one of the couch cushions. He then took Sonic's hand in his own, bringing Sonic's injury up to the light.

"What is this? It looks like a burn."

Sonic recoiled from Metal, but still allowed his hand to be held. He paused, then averted his gaze, ears flopping down in shame.

"Uh—yeah. There was an… _accident_. With a Chaos Emerald."

"An accident?" Metal turned Sonic's hand over. There were no burn marks on the topside. "These look like second degree burns. How long have you been injured in this way?"

Sonic shrugged, looking away in embarrassment. "I-I don't know. A few hours before you found me, I guess?"

"And you have not had them bandaged or sought medical attention otherwise during this time?"

"I haven't really gone out since this happened and Tails...he isn't really an expert at this stuff. So—no," Sonic said.

Those wounds _looked_ painful. Not that Metal had ever felt pain, so he supposed on some level he was just making assumptions. But for Sonic to burn his hands like that, and then walk around like nothing had happened...something was wrong. Not to mention the risk of infection—

What had Eggman told Metal to do? 'Take care of him'? Technically, this was a vague command. 'To take care of' had more than one definition. Eggman had probably meant it in the sense of 'to remove,' but that wasn't the only definition.

Well it wasn't like Metal had any other leads, and he could hardly return to Eggman a failure.

Still holding the back of Sonic's hand, Metal tugged slightly, gesturing toward the upstairs.

"These wounds need to be disinfected," Metal said.

Sonic jerked forward somewhat, not expecting the tug. "Um—"

His eyes followed Metal's gesture. "Yeah, I think I might have some stuff in the bathroom?"

"That is good. Basic medical supplies should be all we require," Metal said. He eased up on the tug somewhat, although he was still obviously trying to direct Sonic upstairs.

Sonic hesitated then nodded. He got up off the couch, then took the lead, walking ahead of Metal and leading him up the stairs.

Metal had to scamper the remaining distance, quickly coming to a rest as Sonic reached the top. The bathroom door sat ajar next to the staircase, and Metal slid into it. Like the rest of Sonic's house, it was unorderly in that peculiar, unlived in way that only Sonic could manage.

Metal tapped the faucet, filling the sink basin with warm water. He then picked up a small rag and turned back to Sonic.

"I require your hand."

Sonic smiled just slightly, holding his hand out. "I can't detach it or anything if _that's_ what you want."

"Of course you cannot detach your arm. That would be ridiculous." Metal took Sonic's wrist in one hand, enormous as it was, and dipped the rag into the water with the other. He dabbed it on Sonic's palm, wiping away the dirt and grime and leaving the wound clean.

"I know," Sonic replied in good humor.

The wound cleansed, Metal turned and rummaged through a side cabinet installed along the wall. He pulled out a handful of medical supplies, including some bandages and a tube of disinfectant. He swiped the cap off the tube and squeezed a bead onto Sonic's palm.

He stared at Sonic's hand.

This had _seemed_ like a good idea when he had started.

Sonic blinked. "What's wrong?"

Holding the back of Sonic's hand, Metal brought his other hand up, hovering it just above Sonic's palm. He hesitated for a moment.

Then, taking care not to apply pressure to the burns, he began to smear the disinfectant across Sonic's palm with two fingers, working it into the damaged tissue.

Sonic let out a small noise.

"Thanks," he murmured.

Metal began to unravel the wad of bandages, rolling the cloth over Sonic's injury. He had to ensure the tension was just right. Not too loose least it fall, but not too tight either. Just enough to hold firm.

Once finished, Metal tucked in the edge of the bandage. "How does it feel?"

Sonic flexed his fingers, closing his hands into fists a few times, carefully as to not let his claws dig into the cloth.

"Feels pretty nice," he admitted, pleased.

His smile faded somewhat as he sighed. "I never burned myself when I was like this before. Looks pretty bad on light blue skin, huh?"

Metal wadded the rag in his hands, wiping off the remnants of the disinfectant. "You have been in this wolfish form before? I was not aware."

"Ah—" Sonic hesitated. "Yeah."

Sonic turned away, walking off and standing in the doorway for only a moment and giving Metal a look that encouraged him to follow.

"You remember back when the planet was in pieces? Or did Egghead have you off?"

Metal tossed the rag onto the counter. He turned, following Sonic. "The doctor had me deactivated during that period for some critical maintenance work, but I did ask Orbot of the details later. I am familiar with the basics."

Sonic nodded. "Well, some Dark Gaia stuff went on and I became like this until I fixed the planet. 'Cept... back then, I was only in this form at night."

Sonic led Metal into his room. Something shiny laid on the floor, but Sonic walked right past it without sparing it a second glance.

"Wait—" Metal had stopped at the threshold of the room. On the floor, was that...was that really—

"Is that a—" Metal's voice broke. "—a _Chaos Emerald_?"

Sonic stopped, turning and only looking at the Emerald for a split second.

"Yeah. That's the one that burned me." He held his hand up for emphasis.

"It—you...you just leave Chaos Emeralds, cosmic artifacts of nearly infinite power, _on your bedroom floor_?"

"It _burned_ me," Sonic repeated, pouting. "I kept it in the drawer before."

"In the drawer—" Despite the fact his voice was synthesized, Metal sounded somehow airy and exasperated. "I just... _in the drawer_ —"

Metal shook his head then rubbed his face. He finally sighed and walked into the room, stopping to squat down by the Emerald.

Hesitantly, he rose his hand over it. Using one finger, he poked it.

Nothing happened.

"You said this Emerald burned you during an accident? What were you doing with it?"

"I was..." Sonic sighed again, a bit of light fading from his eyes. "I was just trying to use Chaos Control. I grabbed the Emerald and focused, but..."

He showed his bandaged palms to Metal to show his point.

He chuckled bitterly. "Guess they don't like being handled by beasts like me."

Metal went to say something, but he thought better of it. Whatever had happened with the Emerald was clearly a sore point for Sonic. Perhaps, during earlier times, Metal would have gleefully rubbed this in, perhaps even adding that he was the real Sonic now, given the Emerald couldn't burn him.

And yet, when he saw the torn, sorrowful look in Sonic's eyes, he just couldn't muster the ability to say anything.

So instead, Metal plucked the Emerald from the floor. Eggman had never trusted him with the Chaos Emeralds, and so Metal had rarely gotten to hold them. This Emerald felt just like the other handful of times he had held them—warm and attractive, but in an unnatural, eerie, sense.

Maybe the Chaos Emerald felt warm to him in the same way a candle felt warm to a moth.

Metal turned back to Sonic. "Would you like me to place this back in your…" Metal beeped. "...location of storage, as it were?"

Sonic nodded, not wanting to look at the Emerald any longer. "Yeah."

He gestured to the drawer in question. "Leave it open a bit though. The Emeralds don't like being caged in with their energy going everywhere. That's why I don't keep it in a safe."

"The Chaos Emeralds do not like anything, given they are not alive." Metal pulled the drawer further open. The inside was surprisingly clean, devoid of anything else, as if this drawer were solely dedicated to the Emerald.

With a tilt of his hand, Metal dropped the Emerald into the drawer. It made a soft, muffled thud when it fell.

Sonic frowned. He looked away from Metal, eyes falling to his nightstand. On top was what appeared to be some type of ornate bracelet made of a grayish alloy with a green spherical gem at one side.

Sonic picked up the object. His eyes grew distant and forlorn, as if focused on something that had been but would never again be.

Metal closed the drawer, still profoundly dissatisfied with Sonic's choice of Emerald storage, but left with little recourse. So he instead focused on the object in Sonic's hand. "What is this?"

"Something from a friend of mine," Sonic replied softly. "Back when the world was in pieces, I met a little guy who'd lost his memories. Named him 'Chip,' like 'chocolate chip', since he loved food so much."

He sighed, stroking the gem with a thumb. "I couldn't have saved the world without him."

Metal noticed—it was simple, given the fact he had all of Sonic's data—that something was decidedly anomalous about Sonic's reaction to this piece of jewelry. Sonic was wholly melancholy, not at all like his usual, peppy self.

"This friend...where is he now?" Metal asked.

"Somewhere inside the Earth," Sonic said after a moment. "He ended up being Light Gaia. Heh, who knew, right?"

Sonic stepped back, sitting down on his bed. "He wasn't so brave when we met—he even ran away when he first saw me—and he could be a little blunt, but I could always rely on him, you know?"

Metal wasn't sure he did know, given all his previous experience consisted of working alone and occasionally having Eggman yell at him.

"I see. It must have been invaluable to have an ally like that."

Sonic finally looked over, as if reading Metal's thoughts.

"I know you never really teamed up with anyone before, but working alone isn't always the way. Having a friend around sometimes can be fun."

He glanced at Metal up and down. "You'll have a partner one day, and then you'll get it."

A partner? Sonic had to be confused. There was no way Eggman would ever have him work with anyone else. That was just how Eggman did things, and it was unlikely to change.

"Perhaps—" Metal started but cut himself off.

His radio was going off. Someone was calling him.

Only one person could call him

Metal held his hand up to Sonic, gesturing that he needed a moment.

"I read you, doctor. No, I—what? Give me a moment—"

Metal turned back to Sonic. "How is your present condition?"

"My...condition?" Sonic echoed. Sonic's brows furrowed, a hand going against his chest. He stood completely still like that for a moment, as if he were some kind of decaying monument.

"...Okay," Sonic answered. He looked at Metal, voice raising in confidence as he smiled. "I feel okay."

Metal nodded, pleased. He went to turn back on the radio but then hesitated.

"Give me a moment," he said. "I will be back."

He nodded at Sonic one more time then slipped out of the room, taking care to close the door behind him.

He turned on the radio. "Sonic's condition is stable."

"Wh— _stable?_ " Eggman asked, dumbfounded. "What do you mean _stable?!_ "

Metal winced. Having the radio stuck inside his head made Eggman _so loud_.

"While he is still trapped in his wolf-like form, I believe he is now unlikely to revert to that truly monstrous and dangerous state."

Eggman sounded frustrated on the other line. "Metal Sonic—"

Eggman huffed. "Very well. It doesn't matter. Return to base _immediately._ "

Metal hesitated for a moment. "Affirmative."

He turned off the radio.

He placed his hand on the door. He had completed his mission. Sonic was stable now, and so he could return to Eggman victorious. The doctor would surely be pleased with his performance.

He stepped into the room. "Sonic?"

Sonic looked up, smirking just a little. "Done with your _fancy private call?_ "

"I am."

There was a long, awkward pause before Metal continued.

"The doctor has ordered I return now."

Sonic's smirk faded into surprise. "Oh! Right, yeah."

He paused. "...Do you have to?"

"It is a direct order from the doctor, and I cannot disregard his commands. This means I am obliged to return."

"Mm." Sonic hesitated. "And...you're not gonna, I don't know, try to steal the Emerald or something?"

"The Chaos Emerald? I do not see why I should. The doctor did not order me to obtain it, thus it is irrelevant to my purposes now."

Sonic's eyes widened, then grew brighter as he smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Just as Metal turned to leave, Sonic stood up. "Wait! Uh, Metal?"

Sonic paused, longer than before this time.

Metal turned back. "Yes?"

Sonic opened his mouth to speak, but paused again. He stared down at his hands, as if debating with himself, then looked back at Metal. His smile was small, his voice reluctant but accepting.

"You won, you know?" The look in his eyes was different than before. "You're the real Sonic now."

When Sonic spoke, Metal had been halfway through the door. But when he heard Sonic's words, he had frozen mid-stride. He held that awkward posture for a moment as he considered which one of his models would derive the best response for this.

He finally set his foot back down and turned back to Sonic. "You truly mean this?"

"It's true, isn't it?" Sonic shrugged. "I'm not really me anymore and, well—"

He smiled more genuinely. "You were pretty cool today."

"I, ah—" Another pause. Why were his data models so inefficient at calculating a response to this? Was he going to have to derive a new one just for moments like these?

"Thank you," Metal said at last. "That is the single kindest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Without looking back at Sonic, Metal took a few steps forward and quickly closed the door behind him.

He was definitely going to need that new data model.


	10. Chapter 10

Providing electrical power to Eggman's laboratory was about as simple as splitting an atom. Half the issue laid in the lack of a proper power grid. What municipality would let a reclusive, half crazed, rogue engineer periodically crash their grid with his inconsistent power demands? No one would, and so Eggman had been left to devise his own solution. It involved a makeshift nuclear reactor and some vinegar. Metal tried really hard not to think about it too much.

It explained the dimness of the hallway, which was a frequent enough occurrence. Eggman would get a little too excited about some experiment, his grid would crash, and the backup generators would then kick online. They provided only enough power to run the dim, boxy, and sparse emergency lights plus the automated doors.

Automated doors like the one Metal was standing in front of.

Automated doors that weren't opening despite Metal's network request.

And the manual interface? Metal had carefully entered the passcode a full three times already, and yet still the door remained stubbornly close.

There was nothing for it. He would have to call Eggman on the radio and—

The doors opened.

The inside was utterly dark. The only light was from outside, and it petered into the hallway just enough to illuminate but a narrow cone of steel floor inside.

It shouldn't be that dark inside. Not even the emergency lights were on in there. Something was wrong. It had to be. And yet, when he queried the network, every status returned was normal.

He stepped inside. The silence was oppressive. Gone were the hums of robots, the grinding of steel. He could only hear his own footsteps, hear the clank of his galvanized steel soles against the polished titanium floor.

He took another step. Then another. He queried the network again. Status normal. Another step.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Metal froze. He had just queried the door. He knew, for an absolute fact, that this door would only close on command. He hadn't told it to close, but neither had he told it to open.

Unless...the lab! Someone must have compromised it! He wasn't safe here. He needed to escape. He needed to flee.

He couldn't see anything.

But his headlight would take care of that. All he had to do was click it on and—

_Click_.

A different click—not the click of his headlight but the click of a spotlight. Light cut through the room—not a floodlight, but a spotlight.

Eggman sat in the middle of the room in a swivel chair, back turned to Metal.

Another spotlight clicked on just a step in front of Metal, as if daring him to step inside.

"Metal Sonic." Eggman's voice was utterly impassive.

Clock cycles clicked by, far too quickly for Eggman to notice.

Metal counted every one.

They brought him no closer to an answer.

He had no choice. He stepped into the light. It was bright, focused like a laser, and it cast chrisp, dark shadows along his armor.

"Doctor." Metal's voice was steady.

Eggman turned around. Harsh shadows creased his face. He shifted one leg over the other.

"So, you're sure that pesky _dog_ will be _so_ less likely to change into that horrid feral state now, hm? That's _it?_ "

"This is what my data lead me to believe, yes. Stress worsens his state, although I have reason to believe his condition is now stable."

"That's all you have? So much time away, and this is all you bring back?" Eggman rubbed his forehead. "What is your directive? Tell me."

"You ordered me to 'take care of Sonic.'"

"Your _primary_ directive," Eggman corrected. "What you've been programmed with since the beginning."

His gaze grew stern, brows furrowed. "That wasn't the wording I'd used back then."

432,102 clock cycles skipped by. Metal was glad Eggman couldn't count them.

"Original directive was to destroy Sonic the Hedgehog."

"Which you didn't."

Eggman paused then took a deep breath, swirling his chair back around.

"That will be all."

No doors opened. No lights switched on.

Nothing about this entire encounter matched any of the data or patterns in Metal's database. Eggman's reaction, the locked doors, the lack of lighting—these things were outliers.

Outliers were always a concern.

"Doctor…?" Metal's voice was quiet.

Eggman turned just slightly to spare Metal a glance. "Didn't you hear me? I said 'that will be all'. I don't _need you_ anymore."

"You do not," Metal's optics flickered, "...need me?"

Eggman's statement was a contradiction of a known tautology. Eggman had built Metal. He had built Metal because he needed Metal. If he did not need Metal—

"Precisely," Eggman said it so emotionlessly, as if he were more a robot than Metal.

Eggman lifted his arm. He was holding a remote control.

"Now hold still. Maybe _that order_ will be simple enough for you to follow."

Eggman pressed the button. A single, harsh beep wailed through the room.

Silence.

Footsteps sounded behind Metal, sluggish, weighted down, and uneven. They grew closer. Closer. Something was behind him.

Metal froze. He knew what was behind. He knew the situation he was in. There was a term for it. A term for events that were so rare, so unexpected, and yet so profoundly important to as render the rest of the model as obsolete as the last bit of a floating point number.

This event was a black swan.

And Metal was in the middle of it.

For that sound was the sound of the reaper: the disassembler robot. It was designed for a single purpose: to rip apart robots into their constituent parts.

Metal formed his strategy in an instant. He didn't click on his headlight. Darkness worked two ways, as did the improbability it provided. Eggman was going to expect Metal to react in a certain way. That meant unpredictability was the only means to survival.

Metal threw himself to the ground. He laid flat on his chest, face down, as low as he possibly could. He revved his engine.

The force from his engine built up, and he shot backward, screeching against the steel on his stomach like a bobsled. He shot straight beneath the dark, ominous shadow of the dissembler.

Eggman stood up, his voice a tense growl. "I thought as much."

He pressed another button. The fluorescent bulbs flickered on. Light flooded the room.

Robots—they were _everywhere._ Metal was utterly surrounded.

There was a single opening: the now-closed door where he had entered.

"Bring him to me but don't destroy him!" Eggman ordered. "His parts are expensive!"

Meta's momentum was enough to carry him to the door. He scrambled back up to his feet. He took a step backward, and his back hit the door.

In the clear light, the disassembler looked above him like an oversized electric can opener. Half a dozen appendages waved along its side, armed with razors and saws and pinchers.

The door behind him was locked shut. No amount of passcodes, no amount of cryptographic maneuvering would open it.

The algorithm he needed was a little more brute force.

Metal knelt down. Then, without a clock cycle to spare, he launched himself into the air like a spring. The room was small, but Metal needed the momentum, and so he circled the room, once, twice, then again, moving so quickly that the objects around him seemed to merge into an indistinguishable smear of color.

He hit the door traveling at the speed of a bullet with the mass of a cannonball. He pierced through the steel door panels as if they were nothing more than a mesh screen. Shrapnel exploded around him, digging into his chassis, leaving great, deep gashes against his armor.

Even against the cacophony of shrapnel, Eggman screamed, "Get him!"

Robots spilled into the hallway behind Metal. They took aim. Lasers fired around him.

The hallway was a straight line, a runway stretching hundreds of meters. On one end stood the hoard of robots. The other end was sunlight.

Except for the doors. The main hallway to Eggman's lab was lined with pressurized doors the doctor had designed to spring shut fast enough to potentially stop even Sonic himself.

They were starting to snap shut.

Metal revved his engine. But instead of a loud roar, there was a sputtering, grinding whine. A piece of shrapnel was lodged against his engine blades, and it screeched as his motor turned.

He was still flying.

50 meters until the sunlight. A door snapped shut behind him, closing so quickly it sounded like an explosion,

25 meters. His engine sputtered again. The shrapnel shard was tearing apart his rotary blades, chewing them into Swiss cheese.

Another explosion. Another door. 10 meters. The grinding was louder than the doors now.

5 meters. Another explosion.

Metal stopped moving.

The door—the door had closed _on him_.

A dozed tiny explosions emanated from his chassis. Pistons popped. Cylinders snapped. He tried to move. He tried to reroute power to his engine.

Nothing. Metal was caught, wedged between the two steel panels of the outermost door like a mouse caught in the jaws of a cat.

The door was still closing. It sunk deeper into his armor, driven by pressures beyond anything for which Metal's chassis was designed to withstand.

Metal tried to squirm. He couldn't move. His chassis was as immobile as the base of a concrete bridge. But he was able to twist his arms just enough, and his armor was dented just enough, that he could pry his fingers into the gaps of his dented armor and the door.

He pushed. The door crunched him. He pushed harder. The pressure started to flatten his hands.

And yet somehow, the pressure of the biting jaws began to lessen. The lower panel pressed downward, and the upper panel sprang backward. And even as the door creaked and sparked, its electronics breaking from the resistance, the motion in which it slacked seemed so effortless.

Before Metal could fall forward, something secured him. It was an arm, a thick and muscular arm coated by midnight fur.

"Hang onto me," a familiar voice spoke. "I'll pull you out."

There were so many alarms ringing all over inside Metal's head. His subsystems damaged. His sensors offline. Components were missing.

Metal wrapped as much of himself as he could around that arm. It wasn't much—his legs weren't responding to his signals at all, but there were his arms. Ten percent power. It was enough to clutch the fur.

Sonic pulled Metal against him. He held Metal tightly with one arm while his other arm had been grabbing the upper jaw of the door. Likewise, his right leg had been pressed against the bottom jaw.

He'd stopped them all on his own.

He paused, as if ensuring that Metal was secure, then turned to the door. The doors that hadn't managed to trap Metal had opened. The robots were still meters away, but they were approaching rapidly.

"Sorry. Give me a sec."

Sonic pulled away from the door. The door's panels didn't even move. They were too damaged.

Sonic set Metal down gently on the grass then faced the door again. With a harsh growl, he threw himself forward, claws digging into the steel jaws.

In a swift motion, he brought the jaws together. It wasn't an explosion, more akin to the final zap of thunder before the storm knowingly ends.

Sonic waited, but the door appeared secure now. He turned back to Metal, sympathy in his eyes as he knelt down.

"Are you okay? Can you move?"

"S-sonic—? You...you saved me—"

Metal's internal diagnostics were screaming at him. Errors on top of errors, errors about errors, so many they overflowed the queue.

Metal had to do the diagnostic manually. He tried to move his legs. No response. His engine—no response. His arms—12.21% operational. Left hand offline, right hand at 9.76%. His neck—he could still move that. Visual systems online. Audio systems at 43.5%.

Then, remembering Sonic's query, he said "I-I cannot move my legs."

Sonic cringed.

"Yeah. You look awful." His voice wasn't at all teasing or condescending. He sounded horrified.

"Take it easy. I'll get you out of here."

Sonic picked up Metal again, but instead of just holding Metal with one hand, he cradled Metal with his entire arm, allowing Metal to relax against his chest.

Sonic took a cautious gaze at the door, then turned and walked in the other direction.

Metal eased into Sonic's grip like a limp vegetable. It was all he could do with his systems in this condition.

At least this let him use more power for processing.

"T-the doctor—" Out of the situation, it was harder to believe. "He...he said he did not need me. He wanted to recycle my parts—"

Sonic scoffed, "Egghead doesn't _know_ what he needs. He needs exercise, a good shave, and anger management, but he still hasn't gotten any of those. So, don't listen to him."

Metal simply stared at Sonic for a moment, his processors clicking.

"I had seen the doctor scrap other robots before." Metal clenched his hands into weak fists. "But, he had always claimed me to be his greatest creation. I-I do not know what changed. Or—"

Or maybe he did know what had changed. Metal had failed his directive. Or at least he had in Eggman's eyes. But hadn't Metal failed many times before? Eggman had never scraped him then. So maybe this was something else. Something so bad that Eggman had to scrap him entirely. Something that would make Eggman want an entirely new robot.

Sonic rolled his eyes.

"Eggman lets _me_ call him Eggman, calls _himself_ Eggman, and makes robots that _look like him._ I don't think he's in the right mind to say whether you're worth anything.

"Besides, you're way better without him."

"I...I am?" It took Metal a few hundred clock cycles to process that one. And then he figured out why.

It was a compliment. No one ever complimented him. Except—

Except Sonic _did_.

"Wait—" There was another query in Metal's queue. "You came to rescue me. Why?"

"I—" Sonic paused. "I don't know. I mean I do know but—"

He averted his gaze. "A little after you left, I... I had a bad feeling. Something was telling me that something bad was up with you even though I didn't know what. I knew you were supposed to be my enemy, but I just couldn't let anything horrible happen to you."

"You sensed I was in trouble?" Every part of Metal wanted to be skeptical of this claim, and by and large, he was skeptical.

Except he had sensed Sonic's aura. And that aura had given him plenty of things to reevaluate.

"You said you could not let anything horrible happen to me," Metal said. He then added in a lower tone, "Does this imply you saved me out of obligation?"

"W-what?" Sonic was appalled. "No! It's a saying—like—"

Sonic hesitated. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Okay, I didn't _want_ anything horrible to happen to you."

So Sonic wanted nothing terrible to befall Metal, while Eggman had wanted to destroy and recycle him. It was as stark a contrast as Metal had ever seen.

"But I...well, I had thought you must have saved me out of obligation…" Metal trailed off.

Eggman's words weighed heavily in his mind. "...because he said I was unwanted."

Sonic looked down at Metal. He opened his mouth, closed it, then averted his gaze again, this time more severely. His blush reddened.

"Well, _I_ want you, so you can't be _unwanted,_ now can you?"

"You—" Metal started. _Wanted_. It was a word Metal never thought he would hear. He was _wanted_. Not even Eggman had ever truly _wanted_ him. Metal was either _needed_ or _unneeded_.

He was never _wanted_.

And the person who wanted him was _Sonic_.

Sonic looked back at Metal after a moment. He smiled and chuckled, "What? Werehog got your voice chip?"

"What—?" This statement was so nonsensical that it took Metal a moment to parse it, and then he quickly understood why. "'Werehog'? This, out of all possible linguistic constructions, is what you choose to call yourself now?"

"Uh—" Sonic snorted, amused but also a bit sheepish. "Hey, I can't be perfect at _everything._ Plus...it sounds cool."

"'Cool' is not a justification for inaccuracy."

"Sorry that I'm not a walking dictionary like _some robots._ " Sonic smirked good-naturedly. "Glad to see you're back to normal, Mets."

"You...I—" Metal paused. "What did you call me?"

"Mets!" Sonic repeated cheerfully. "It's a nickname. What, you don't like it...?"

A nickname. As a 'walking dictionary,' Metal knew full well what a nickname was. So he also knew it was a term of endearment.

"This nickname is more accurate than what you decided to call yourself a moment ago."

Sonic shrugged with his free arm. "Eh, I'll take it."

He shifted Metal in his arm. "Are you comfortable?"

Then he paused. "Er...can robots get uncomfortable?"

Metal shook his head. "I am incapable of experiencing pain. However—"

He looked down at his dented and damaged body. He winced. "Discomfort is more a state of mind. In that sense, yes, I can be discomforted."

"Oh." Sonic chewed his lip for a moment. "Makes sense."

It was odd how Sonic was staring at him. Even as Sonic's gaze went back to the direction he was walking in, his eyes occasionally shifted back toward Metal.

It was as if he was checking on Metal and to ensure his comfort. Metal couldn't recall anyone else who had ever done such a thing for him.

Thankfully, Metal's internal compass was mostly intact, so he could still tell the direction they were heading.

Sonic was heading back towards Tails' lab.

And judging by the look on Sonic's face, Metal couldn't even imagine how Sonic was going to explain this situation to Tails.


	11. Chapter 11

"Sonic, there's no excuse this time. You didn't—"

Sonic slapped his face, embarrassed. "I didn't hurt him this time, I know."

Sonic knew very well how ridiculous he must have looked to Tails. He was cradling Metal against his chest so closely.

"But Eggman didn't want him anymore. He doesn't have a reason to fight me now," Sonic continued.

Tails spun his workbench stool around to get a closer look at Sonic. He was holding a pencil, and he twisted it absently between his fingers.

"Yeah, but if I fix him, how do you know he's not gonna turn on you, all on his own? Remember? He's acted without Eggman before," Tails said.

"Yeah, but—" Sonic sighed, looking down at Metal. "You don't want to fight me anymore, right, Mets?"

Metal tried to turn his head to get a better look at Tails, but after several, agonizing seconds of grinding noises, he simply gave up and stared at the ceiling.

"The possibility of direct conflict no longer exists as a branch of my decision tree."

"Uh...okay then," Tails said. He tucked the pencil behind his ear then rubbed his face. He took a deep breath. "Look—he could still try something easily. I know Eggman tossed him out, but that doesn't mean he's suddenly safe."

Sonic replied, "I know it looks weird, Tails, but I trust him. He's not like you think he is."

Tails leaned backward, placing his elbows on the workbench behind him. "Sonic, I'm sorry, but how do you know that? We've both known Metal for a long time, and he's had an enormous history of trying to destroy you."

"Tails—"

Sonic stopped himself and let the silence stretch on. Silence was fine with him after all. It gave him a chance to think.

Of course Tails wouldn't believe him. Sonic had expected that much. He knew he sounded insane right now. He could hardly believed the words coming out of his own mouth anyway.

But he knew he would have to convince Tails. Metal deserved to be fixed, even if it made Sonic look crazy.

"Tails, please? Help him. He earned it. He—"

Sonic took a breath. His voice lowered to a gentle whisper. "He  _saved_  me."

Metal's optics widened in complete and utter bewilderment.

Tails appeared equally incredulous. "He saved you?"

Sonic flushed. That was exactly the question he didn't want.

"Yeah, he saved me, okay? So..."

Sonic averted his gaze, pretending to find interest in the wall.

Tails said nothing. He simply studied Sonic for a moment, and the room grew quiet enough that he started to hear the clock on the wall clicking.

"Look," Tails finally said. "I don't mind fixing him, if he's really gonna be safe. But I need to know: what happened?"

"And I don't suppose you'd just let me tell you later?" Sonic asked hopefully.

Tails sighed. He leaned over, resting his face in his palm and looking at Sonic through his fingers.

"Fine, how about this? You look exhausted Sonic, and I'm worried you're pushing yourself too hard right now. So I'll fix Metal if you can promise me you'll go get some genuine sleep in the meantime."

Sonic pouted but he knew Tails was right, and anyway, having to sleep was a reasonable requirement.

"Deal," Sonic said.

He carried Metal over to the examination table and set him down.

"Mind if I just grab a chair and crash right here?"

Tails turned, sparing Metal a quick glance before answering Sonic.

"Sure," Tails said warily, still not taking his eye off Metal. He then sighed and turned back to Sonic. "Just promise me you'll explain when you wake up?"

Sonic nodded, smiling. "No problem, buddy. I promise."

Sonic looked around then stretched his arm over to a leather swivel chair and brought it near an empty desk. He walked over, sat down, then took a single look at Metal before resting his arms on the table. He laid his head down, trying to will himself to fall asleep.

* * *

Sonic exhaled as he exited the room. It had been so much easier to explain the situation to Tails when Metal wasn't there.

Metal himself was still sitting on the examination table, now in substantially better condition. Sonic cracked another smile. It felt like he had been doing that so much more recently.

"Hey. How do you feel?" Sonic asked, offering a hand for Metal to grab.

Metal held his hand up, clenching and releasing the fingers as he experimented with the repairs. When he tried to stand up, Metal placed his hand in Sonic's palm, steadying himself. As he shifted his weight to his legs, he wobbled slightly.

"Motors are functional but operating significantly below standard capacity."

"Are you gonna need any help?" Sonic asked warily, hands raised slightly as if ready to catch a potentially-falling Metal.

"Tails assures me my motors should be sufficient for walking at least, although my engine will need far more to return to service."

Metal lifted his foot. He shook slightly, but quickly stepped forward. He then took another step, quicker this time, using the momentum to ease the wobble.

Sonic watched Metal for a moment, unsure what to do. But once Metal seemed stable enough, Sonic decided not to offer anymore assistance for fear of insulting Metal.

"So..." Sonic frowned. "Do you need to charge again?"

"I believe that would be ideal, yes," Metal said. He was still walking forward as if he were afraid he wouldn't be able to start again if he stopped. "And your residence is a possible location for this?"

Sonic followed after Metal, walking side-to-side with him. While it might not have been Metal's intention, Sonic was already going to suggest his house given that Tails and Metal probably weren't on friendly terms quite yet.

"'Course it is!" Sonic grinned. "You know the way? I'll let you lead."

Opening the door proved somewhat difficult as Metal had to twist the doorknob with his weakened grip. Both of these things made him wobble dangerously, but after a few quick steps outside, his pace returned.

"You live in this direction, correct?" Metal said, gesturing to the forest beyond the Tornado's runway.

Sonic nodded. "Mhm."

Sonic kept Metal's pace, slow it may be with his wobbling.

As they walked, Sonic placed a hand over his muzzle in thought. He loathed to discussion the question on his mind, but he also knew this discussion was inevitable.

He moved his hand away, looking at Metal. "What are you going to do?"

They had entered the forest now, following the small, worn footpath beneath the dark canopy of trees.

"I...I do not have an answer to this question," Metal said. "I do not know."

Sonic figured as much. It was natural. Metal followed Eggman for so long, and even during the handful of occasions Metal had struck out on his own, Sonic had defeated him easily.

Sonic bit his lower lip.

"You can, uh, stay with me?" he offered, quickly adding, "Just until you figure things out, of course."

Well that was it. Sonic knew he was insane now.

Metal tried to slow down, probably to look back at Sonic, but this proved to be a poor decision. His legs really only had two options: move or fall over, and so instead, his legs wobbled out from beneath him, and he started to fall backward.

Sonic acted immediately, catching Metal with both hands.

"Um—" He grinned sheepishly. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"That is not it," Metal wobbled a bit more then lurched forward, managing to take enough steps forward to restart his legs. "Staying with you is an acceptable alternative, I think."

Sonic was shocked but not disappointed. He honestly hadn't been expecting Metal to agree to that.

"Sounds good," he said with a nod, sounding pleased as he kept up with Metal once more.

"But—" Metal hesitated. It was nighttime again, and while the forest was quiet, there was the occasional humming of owls. "If I may ask a question?"

"Sure. What's up?" Sonic looked over at Metal to let him know he was giving him his full attention.

The twigs along the path snapped beneath Metal's feet. His gait was still uneven, and the randomness in the sound of his footsteps were a remainder of his broken state.

"Why?" Metal muttered.

"Why?" Sonic echoed. He chuckled, running a hand through his quills. "Isn't  _that_  the question."

He drew his eyes upwards, admiring the night sky. The same sounds permeated his senses like the night the Chaos Emerald had burned him, only it was different this time.

He appreciated the noises of the night, and the crunching of Metal's footsteps, however uneven, were also a welcome sound.

"Like I said—you saved me. I'd say you deserve it."

"That is what I do not understand," Metal said. "Is it a reversal of sorts? You were the one to save me. The doctor would have surely destroyed me without you."

Sonic hummed. "I was thinking about it. That night when I slashed into your armor—I remember snapping out of it and seeing you curled up on the ground. I wasn't really thinking about it then, but you looked different than usual. You snapped me out of it because you weren't like Silver Sonic. You really reacted to me.

"And after that, you stuck with me. I know you didn't have much of a choice, but you didn't have to make me tea. You didn't have to make me feel better."

He smiled. "You saved me in a different way, Mets."

"Suppose," Metal sounded somewhat guilty, "I did have a reason that required me to stay with you. Would this change your ultimate conclusion?"

Sonic didn't quite understand, but he considered this anyway.

"Not really. I was looking back for a while and realized...I never really knew you, Mets. If you just stuck around for some reason like a normal Eggman bot, then I wouldn't've saved you. I saw you were worth saving because you felt like a real person."

Metal said nothing at first, and they continued onward. Owls hummed, crickets chirped, and leaves crunched. Metal's optics flickered and flickered until he blurted out, "Sonic, there was in fact a reason that compelled me to stay with you."

Sonic paused for a long moment.

"I know." He stared over at Metal. "I mean, I figured. Tails mentioned something about poison, and I knew that you could've been staying because of Eggman, but..."

He smiled. "You still went against Eggman's orders, didn't you? There's no way Eggman would've wanted you to make me tea. You didn't have to actually be nice to me, or admit that you had a reason just now. I'd say that counts for something."

"So...you knew?" Metal looked away, watching the patches of sky that broke through the canopy. "The tea I made you back in Tails' workshop, it was poisoned. You did not drink it, of course, but I was trying on the doctor's orders…"

Metal had to say it. "—to kill you."

"Would you try it again if you could?" Sonic asked. "If Egghead hadn't ordered you to?"

"Would I try it again?" It was a fair question, even if, in a way, it was Sonic's original question: what was Metal supposed to do without Eggman? What did he  _want_  to do?

"Perhaps, sometime ago, the answer to this question would have been yes. But if you ask this question of me now?"

The sky was particularly clear where they were at now. The moon was waning, now nothing but a tiny sliver amid the sparse scattering of stars. It made the entire sky look dark and empty as if there were nothing there at all.

"I suppose the answer now would be—it would be negative. No, I would not try it again."

Sonic grinned, pleased to hear it. "Then that's all that matters. I don't care what you did when you were under Eggman. That wasn't you. I just care about who you are now."

Metal stared at Sonic as if he couldn't believe him. And yet, should Sonic really blame him? After all their years of hostility, bitter rivalry, and defeat at Sonic's hand, Sonic could only imagine the baggage Metal might carry. So for Sonic to forgive him now, it must be an unbelievable thing to Metal. The expression on Metal's face said as much.

So Sonic smiled at him. It was the biggest, most genuine smile Sonic could muster. There wasn't a hint of resentment or deceit inside of it.

And while that smile may have answered one question, it brought with it so many more. For just as the night sky lacked definition and clarity in its endless expanse, so too would Metal.

Who would he be without Eggman?


	12. Chapter 12

Metal supposed, on one level, any notions of _ownership_ were inherently a social construct. For there was nothing about the substance of a thing, nothing about the molecules that made it up, that specified whether it belonged to one person or another.

On the other level, Metal didn't care about this at all.

"This entire space?" Metal asked, half question, half statement because Sonic had already given him the answer. "It is mine now?"

"Mhm!" Sonic gestured to the area around them. "The entire guest room!"

The room itself had been so untouched as to be practically hermetically sealed. The tidy bed and narrow side table were the only things in the room. At worst, there was maybe some dust.

"You don't like it?" Sonic sounded concerned. "We could maybe get you something to help you feel more at home."

"Sonic, you do not understand." Metal gestured to the entire area. "I have never had my own room before. I am simply in awe. This whole space, entirely my own…"

"Really? Eggman didn't even give his top robot a room?" Sonic raised a brow, surprised. "Well, it's yours now, definitely. Glad you like it!"

Metal inched into the room, his legs still creaking as he walked. This room was so different from anything Eggman had had in his laboratory. At best, Metal would have been thrown into the storage bay with the rest of Eggman's robots. He had never really had anything to call his own.

But now he did. Maybe it was fitting to have his own room now. If he was to forge his own path, separate of Eggman, then he had to start somewhere.

He may as well start here.

Metal crept up to the bed. The sheets were fitted neatly atop it and tucked beneath the mattress so firmly it resembled a military cot.

Metal sat down on the bed. The sheets wrinkled beneath him. "Well then, I suppose I must thank you. I will make use of this space."

"You don't have to thank me, Mets. You're my friend, so of course you deserve a room," Sonic insisted.

"Friend?" Metal cocked his head. "I am your friend?"

"Yeah?" Sonic replied as if the answer was obvious.

"My own room and a friend." Metal spread his palms out. There were still a few nicks dug into his hands from the aftermath of his escape from Eggman. "This is a day of many firsts for me."

"Just don't take it too fast." Sonic sat next to Metal. "You're gonna burn your circuits or something if you think about anything too hard."

Metal nodded slowly. "Perhaps that is wise. My escape has left me with many questions. It is perhaps best if I consider them one at a time."

Sonic waved a hand dismissively and laid his back down on the bed. "Yeah, but toss Egghead questions out right away. He's crazy if he doesn't want you anymore. Simple as that."

The bed sheets wrinkled further from Sonic's weight. It was quite possibly the most wrinkled they had ever been.

"I suppose you have a point there. The doctor never was one to succeed at...well, at anything."

Sonic covered his mouth, letting out a snort. "No arguments there."

Metal traced one of the larger dents on his palm with his finger. "I suppose then that leaves me with the first question: what do I do now?"

Sonic hummed, staring up at the ceiling. "Good question."

He paused to think about it then looked over at Metal. "Isn't there anything you ever wanted to do? You know, away from Eggman?"

Metal pondered this for a moment, turning it over through is processors.

"It is difficult for me to answer that. The question had simply never occurred to me."

Metal turned his hand over and began tracing the scratches along the top of his copper. "But considering it now, I think the problem is mainly a lack of data. I need more data to properly answer this. Perhaps…"

Metal considered. "Perhaps a change in scenery would help?"

Sonic shifted, mixed emotions in his voice as he agreed, "Yeah, a change in scenery sounds nice."

Sonic sat up. "You wanna go out somewhere then?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea, I think. A novel environment is ideal for data collection. Do you know of anywhere nearby? It would be ideal if we did not have to travel far."

"Spagonia's probably the closest place to here," Sonic figured. "Maybe we could even buy something cool for your room?"

He paused, scratching the back of his head. "But, ah, let's lay low, okay?"

"Lay low? Oh, yes. That may not be a bad idea. I suppose people will be suspicious if they see you with one of the doctor's robots. I can understand how this would make you wary."

"Oh—uh—" Sonic cleared his throat, sounding conflicted. "Yeah, that."

Metal nodded solemnly. "I will promise to, as you say, 'lay low.' I could perhaps even wear a cloak if you wish for me to remain hidden?"

"No, it's—" Sonic groaned. "It's not you, it's me."

"It is you?" Metal considered this for a moment. "How is it you?"

Sonic blushed in embarrassment, averting his gaze. "Well, I've just...never been out in the day like this. Some of the people in Spagonia already know me in this form, but—" He sighed.

"I see." Metal recalled the aura and the abnormal energy readings. There was also what Sonic had said to him before—how he considered Metal the "real Sonic" now. "I understand what it is to have people fear you and to not be what you want to be. It is a relatable concern. I know there is nothing for it but know you have my condolences. We can avoid calling attention to ourselves when we venture out if it will help you."

Sonic stared at Metal, surprise in his eyes. After a moment, he relaxed.

"Okay. Let's go."

He made a mental note to get Metal something nice at Josef's.

Metal nodded. He stepped off the bed and, after waiting for Sonic to get up, he quickly smoothed the sheets into their original, military fit. He was a little surprised by just how excited he was. Spagonia—a whole city filled with data for him to collect.

"Yes. Let us go."

* * *

 

Spagonia was an easygoing town, at least in Sonic's experience. Most of the residents were actually very nice, and most of them already knew Sonic in his werehog form.

That didn't help Sonic's anxiety overall, but he was thankful nonetheless. And maybe it would make his task easier. He had promised himself to get Metal something nice at Josef's after all.

"So, uh, what do you think?" Sonic asked, gesturing toward the town buildings as they entered.

Metal took in the city as a tableau, turning to consume the entire angle. He paused for a moment then nodded in affirmation.

"It is fascinating. I have flown over here before, but I have never been so close. There are certain details I neglected to consider that way. For example—"

Metal gestured toward the cafe. "I was not aware of the diversity of this establishment. I had always thought people sat only outside, but I see now they have chairs along the interior as well. The establishment wishes to be fault-tolerant, protecting its patrons from adverse weather conditions."

Sonic smiled. Metal's naivety helped lighten his mood just a little. "Yeah, Gigi owns a restaurant with his wife Barbara. Nice, right?"

Sonic hesitated slightly but forced himself to keep walking through the town with Metal. Some of the townsfolk recognized him and waved, while others weren't quite sure how to react to him, especially with Metal there.

As long as no one was screaming, Sonic figured it was fine.

"Have you often come to this town?" Metal asked. "You seem to know everyone here."

"I came here all the time back when the world was in pieces." Sonic glanced over, distracted as he noticed one of the locals staring at him.

"There were...uh..." he looked back at Metal, "a lot of people that needed my help. Plus, Professor Pickle lived here, so me and Chip kept coming back to see him."

Sonic snorted. "'Specially 'cause we could only take two pictures with that camera of his without needing a refill, and Chip kept wanting to take shots of the food everywhere."

"I see. You must have gotten to know everyone quite well this way." Metal hit a pebble with his foot, and he trailed off as it scattered down the road ahead of them. "There is so much in this town I have never seen before, whole microeconomies of interaction that never occurred in the doctor's domain."

Sonic chuckled. "Yeah, you might confuse people if you say it like that."

A voice called out from a distance. "Sonic!"

Sonic's ear twitched. He looked over. There was a familiar couple—a shoemaker and his wife—standing nearby. Sonic had helped them so often before that he instantly remembered them.

"Hey, Ciccio! Natalia!" Sonic smiled and waved.

He grabbed Metal's hand. "Come on, Mets! I'll introduce you!"

Sonic started walking towards them without warning.

Metal let out a single, surprised beep. Even in his nocturnal form, Sonic was fast, and Metal had to hasten his pace to avoid being dragged.

However, when Sonic finally stopped, Metal overcorrected, nearly slipping into Sonic's side. He did his best to regain his dignity, brushing himself off and standing as straight as he could.

The couple was standing in front of them. Metal stared at them.

Ciccio and Natalia smiled as Sonic approached.

Ciccio spoke first, "Sonic! How are you doing? Don't think I've seen you in that furry form in a while!"

Sonic grinned nervously. "Uh yeah, there was a whole thing with Eggman, and—well—I'll tell you the whole story later."

Natalia seemed to notice his sudden unease, and so she quickly turned her attention toward Metal. "And who's this? A robot? It's not Eggman's, is it?"

She didn't sound concerned, and Sonic respected that. Most locals who knew and understood him have known Sonic would have never recklessly brought a robot into town if that robot meant to harm.

"A friend of mine," Sonic replied. "He used to be Eggman's, but now he's with me. I'm showing him around."

Metal's optics wavered slightly, but he kept his gaze as firm as he could. "Unit identifier: Metal Sonic, operating system v. 7.34.21. Please specify the requested interaction protocol."

Sonic blinked, staring blankly at Metal for a moment. He tried to stifle his laugh. He really did, but he just couldn't keep it in forever, and so he inevitably burst into a small laughing fit.

Metal had just sounded so utterly and completely robotic.

Sonic looked back up to Ciccio and Natalia, placing a hand on Metal's head. It was very warm.

"We're still working on his people skills," Sonic explained.

Ciccio smiled, equally amused. Sonic's joy was incredibly contagious. "Well, does he at least know how to give a well-fashioned handshake?"

Metal continued to stand perfectly still, although he did flinch slightly under the weight of Sonic's palm. "Understood. You wish to continue this exchange under the parameters of Transmission Control Protocol. Consider this response synchronize-acknowledgment."

Ciccio scratched his head. "Um..."

Sonic cut in, "Pretty sure that means yes."

He nudged Metal reassuringly and whispered, "You don't have to be shy, Mets. Just think of it like when you're talking to me."

It was, admittedly, just the slightest bit adorable how shy Metal was.

Ciccio offered his hand for Metal to shake.

Metal hesitated, studying Ciccio as if he had found a novel species of organism. He lifted his hand slowly.

Metal cupped his hand into Ciccio's palm.

Ciccio grinned, shaking Metal's hand eagerly. Natalia took Metal's hand afterward, shaking it as well.

Sonic smiled. "Two handshakes already? Not bad for your first day, Mets."

"Yes. Two handshakes." Metal paused. He stared at Ciccio, then Nathalie, then back to Sonic. "I have! Two, full handshakes."

"How about we make it three?" Sonic offered.

He held out his own hand.

The nicks along Sonic's hand were still visible, although many of them had started to heal. They stood as a testament to Sonic's strength. After all, an ordinary hedgehog wouldn't have been able to tear apart solid steel nearly the same way that werehog Sonic had.

Metal lifted his hand in the air, holding it there for a moment.

He set his hand on Sonic's palm.

Sonic, satisfied, shook Metal's hand. It wasn't exactly a test of how much Metal liked him, but it was still nice to know that Metal could let their hands touch without issue.

Ciccio and Natalia shot each other a glance.

Sonic glanced back up at Ciccio and Natalia. "Anyway, we should keep going. Gotta make sure I don't miss showing Mets anything, you know?"

The two nodded. Simultaneously, they both said, "Have fun!"

Sonic gestured for Metal to follow then started walking again.

Metal trotted behind Sonic, casting his gaze all around the city. "Where do we go now?"

"We could go anywhere you want." Sonic shrugged. He didn't really have a preference. "Spagonia's a big place with a ton to do. There's a bunch of stores, a restaurant, and the university's just around the corner."

At the mention of the university, Sonic thought back to Professor Pickle.

...Yeah, the guy might just drive Metal insane. Probably not the best option.

"A university? A true, honest university? That could be a good place to get data, is it not?" Metal asked.

"Data?" Sonic hummed. "I _guess_ the professor had a room loaded with books. What kind of data do you want?"

"Data of all sorts," Metal said, his voice more energetic than before. "Data of the world and all its peoples and places. There is much to learn, and I need to start somewhere. Would that not be a good place to start?"

Sonic smiled. Metal's enthusiasm was contagious. "Yeah, in that case, definitely!"

Sonic glanced over. Josef's store stood in the distance.

It was still open.

Sonic pointed at the path ahead of them. "The university's down that way and to the left."

"Affirmative." Metal took a few steps along the path, but when he noticed Sonic had stayed behind, he turned. "Will you not be accompanying me?"

Sonic grinned sheepishly. "I've got something to do first actually. How about I meet you there?"

"Ah. I see." Metal turned back to the path. The university loomed in the distance. He hesitated. "I suppose it would be within my capabilities to see myself there."

"Thanks!" Sonic gave a polite wave, waiting and watching as Metal headed off. He knew exactly what to get Metal now. So he headed off to Josef's, and once there, he struck up a friendly conversation.

* * *

 

This door was too simple. Why was it so simple? This was a library. No, it was the university library. It housed all knowledge for the entire university. Surely such a place deserved a grand entrance? Perhaps there could be spires? Or statues? Or it could play a musical number when one approached the entrance? That is what humans did to important things, wasn't it? They made them stand out. A door like this—a small, unassuming thing made of common bolts and screws and attached to a likewise banal building—how could this be important?

Metal crept up to the door. It may be small, but this area was high in traffic, and dozens of students kept stepping past him. They slipped past each other into the hall beyond. Through the small gaps between their bodies, Metal could just barely make out the inside of the library.

It was immense.

The data would be inside.

But—

Metal glanced over his shoulder. The streets of Spagonia were busy but in a calm and purposeful way. Even if the crowds surged, there was a pattern to it.

Metal shook his head. Where was Sonic? Was he not supposed to be here already? He had specifically promised to meet Metal here. Was that not a part of the pattern? And if it were a part of the pattern, what did it mean if Sonic were not here yet? Did it imply all patterns were invalid? Did it mean all of his data was invalid? Did it mean—

Metal turned, hurrying back down the street with an even greater purpose than the residences of Spagonia.

As Metal neared the plaza, he began to hear voices.

"Sonic, is Dark Gaia back?"

"Uh, n-no? He's still in the earth with—"

"Then why are you in this hideous state again, in the daytime no less? Seems awfully suspicious."

Turning the corner, Metal could now see Sonic, who was positively surrounded by various humans with cameras and microphones.

Sonic almost squealed. Metal wasn't sure he had ever seen him so nervous. "W-well, uh—there was an accident when I was fighting Eggman—"

Another man cut in, shoving his microphone in Sonic's face. "So you were being reckless?"

Sonic grimaced. "No! I mean, it's just that—"

"So you admit to being fooled by Eggman?"

Another woman shoved her way into the conversation, pushing the man aside. "Sonic, you were seen here with an Eggman robot. Care to explain?"

"What, Metal?" Sonic had his back practically against the wall. "He's a hundred percent cool, really! He's with me!"

"So you've switched sides then?"

Sonic choked, " _No!_ "

Metal's list of human protocols was admittedly very short. It consisted mostly of what the doctor did—so yelling basically— and also what limited knowledge Metal had gleaned from the Spagonians. It wasn't very much to analyze by itself.

Fortunately, it wasn't the only source of data Metal had.

A few steps were all it took, and Metal was there. These people were a herd. A mob. They were all vying for Sonic's attention, but when Metal approached, a middle-aged man along the edge turned. He obviously recognized Metal because his face lit up like an electric fly trap.

"You!" The man was much taller than Metal, and he didn't even bother to bend down. He simply jammed a microphone against Metal's face. "You're the Eggman robot! You're the one!"

Metal met his gaze. For the human, Metal's pause wouldn't be noticeable. But to Metal, the clock cycles slipped away in a slow and deliberate stream.

"I belong to no one," Metal said.

"What are you doing here?" The man tapped the microphone against Metal's cheek. "So you've gone rogue then? Is that it? One of those rogue robots?"

Metal was too short, and the crowd was too large. It was overpowering too. The mob swarmed around Sonic, yelling and screeching. Metal couldn't hear Sonic over them.

The man must have said something. That was probable, but Metal didn't notice if the man did. He was already halfway through the crowd at that point—his short height did have its advantages—although he did have to press harder when he neared the center.

Finally Metal managed to squeeze out, only to stumble forward. But he didn't have to stumble far before he bumped into something furry.

Metal looked up. He was pressed against Sonic's side.

"M-metal?" Sonic stiffened, turning toward Metal as if the rest of the crowd suddenly didn't exist. "Uh, sorry—"

He flushed, embarrassed. "I know we were supposed to meet at the university, but…"

Metal straightened his back, doing his best to force his weight back onto his own feet and away from Sonic's side. "Yes, well, it is no matter. Extended circumstances they may be, I have returned to your assistance now. So please consider—"

Metal turned back to the crowd. "Attention! May I have your attention? I wish to make a statement."

The crowd was noisy at first, but an uneasy quiet settled over them as Metal paused.

One of them pressed a microphone to Metal's face. "So you're—"

Before the reporter could finish the sentence, Metal yanked the microphone away. "I wish to inform you that we do not answer pointless questions from pointless people. And all of you—"

Metal held the microphone up. Even though he was short, from this angle, Metal knew most of them could still see him.

"—are pointless people."

Metal brought up his other hand, and with a single crunch, he smashed the microphone between his palms. He then lifted a fist up and, opening it slowly, he let the piece of crumpled plastic drift to the ground.

The optimal time to leave was now, and given that now was better than later, Metal intended to act in the fasted way possible. That meant less speaking and more action. So he took Sonic's hand, pulling him in the direction of the university. "We should visit the library now."

Sonic's mouth was agape. He stared at Metal's hand, which was still holding his own, then smiled softly. "Thanks."

In a swift motion, he pulled Metal close, lifting Metal up into his arms and grinning.

He added in a teasing tone, "My hero."

"Yes, well—" Why would Metal look at Sonic? He already knew what Sonic looked like, and more useful data was gathered elsewhere.

"You are welcome," Metal said quietly. "Those people provide no utility. Now—"

While Metal could walk himself, getting to the library quickly was paramount. The fewer adjustments they made now, the faster they would be there. So he was forced to let Sonic carry him there for the sake of speed.

"Let us go to the library."


	13. Chapter 13

Spagonia's library was just as massive as Sonic had imagined, give or take a small difference due to him being taller now. Books were everywhere along the shelves, small gaps where students had taken some.

Sonic went over to an unoccupied table then pulled one of the chairs out. He set Metal down on it. "How's this place for you? Nice?"

Metal eased into the chair, leaning his weight against its back and placing his hands on the table. Narrow scratches marred the table's surface from years of use, although they were recently sealed away behind a fresh coat of clear lacquer.

Metal traced one of the scratches with his fingers. "There is much difference here from Eggman's data stores. I believe I can learn a great deal."

Sonic nodded, leaning carefully against one of the chairs as he eyed some of the bookshelves in the distance.

"Want me to grab you a few?"

Metal tried not to gape at the great shelves. "There are many books here, and I am not certain which ones would be ideal to start. I suppose...what is the saying? We must fly right in?"

"Eh, close enough," Sonic replied with a shrug.

He placed a hand on his chin, thinking. "What kind of stuff do you think you're missing out on right now?"

Metal hesitated for a moment, tracing the tall, oak atrium ceiling beams with his gaze. "Perhaps...something on the history of Spagonia? I feel I could learn most about this land and its peoples through such a book."

Sonic paused, looking unsure but trusting of Metal's judgment. He walked off, raising a hand as he waved down one of the students who had been wandering around with her arms filled with books.

She took a surprised step back away from Sonic at first, her gaze curious but possibly nervous. Still, she listened closely to Sonic's questions and pointed him in the correct direction.

Sonic soon returned to Metal carrying a heaping armful of books. He set the books on the table, being unusually careful for someone of his build. He looked the books over once more then glanced at Metal, satisfied.

"How's this?"

Metal pulled a book from the top of the heap. The library had coated it with a soft, plastic wrapping for protection, and it crinkled audibly in his hands. He cracked it open, noting the title:  _The Rise and Fall of the Spagonian Empire, Vol IX._

"This is most helpful. I appreciate your assistance in this matter."

"No problem, Mets," Sonic replied, pulling the chair closest to Metal out from the table. He sat down, resting his arms on the table and staring at the book in Metal's hands.

Metal flipped the page, staring down at the table of contents. Without making eye contact, Metal said, "Sonic. I wish to discuss an observation with you."

"An...observation?" Sonic echoed, looking over at Metal with slight confusion.

"That student—the one you asked directions from." Metal tilted the book down, meeting Sonic's gaze. "She acted in a peculiar fashion when you spoke with her. It was most different than those two we met in town. Why was that?"

"Ah..." Sonic stared down at his hands, shrugging. "It's like I told you. Not everyone's gonna react normally to me looking like this. Ciccio and Natalie have seen me in my werehog form a bunch of times before though."

"I see." Metal turned the page, although his gaze never left Sonic's. "So this student...does it bother you that she acts as such?"

Sonic opened his mouth but closed it after a moment, needing a few seconds to properly think of a reply.

"Kind of. I mean, I got used to it back when the world was in pieces, but that's only 'cause I knew it'd be temporary."

Another shrug. "It's just hard when it comes to hero stuff. I want people to trust me, and it's not as easy when I look like this."

Metal turned another page. He beeped quietly in thought then set the book down face up on the table. "May I ask you another question?"

Sonic turned his head, giving Metal his full attention. "Sure."

Metal nodded slowly. "I do not believe you ever explained to me how this nocturnal form of yours became permanent."

Sonic hummed, thinking back. "Y-yeah. Guess I didn't."

He supposed it didn't make much of a difference how it had happened, but Metal's curiosity was understandable. It wasn't fair to keep Metal in the dark just because it was hard for him to talk about it.

Plus, it would never get easier if he stayed silent.

"Eggman made this base up in Mazuri. I went to take care of it as usual, thinking it'd just be an easy run, but he tricked me."

Sonic gritted his teeth. "He powered the place using Dark Gaia energy, which is the stuff that transformed me back when the planet was in pieces. I didn't know, so I broke into it."

He shut his eyes for a moment, shuddering at the memory as he hugged himself. "The stuff surrounded me. He concentrated it or something, and since Dark Gaia's stuck in the planet now, there's no one to take this back out of me."

Sonic looked disgusted and rubbed his arm, shuddering again. "That purple energy really did a number on me at first too. It was hard to move for a while."

"Ah. I see." Metal closed the book. He brought his hands down to his lap, holding them in tight fists. He paused then beep quietly. "Sonic...there is something I must tell you. I—I fear I must take responsibility for what happened to you."

"You—" Sonic choked in confusion. "What?"

Metal stared at the book. The clear plastic was scuffed with wear, the pages yellowing with age.

"Yes. I was unsure the true cause at first, but—" Metal's voice was barely a whisper. "Ah, well. You see—the doctor was in his laboratory. It was a day like any other really, which meant that he was upset. The doctor's default emotional state is upset you see and, well—"

Metal shook his head. "I suppose his emotional state is irrelevant. That is not what mattered. The significant variable here was the doctor's paperweight."

Sonic leaned closer to Metal, noting how quiet Metal had become. So Sonic kept silent, just listening to what Metal had to say.

Metal continued, "The doctor was using a jar of Dark Gaia energy as his paperweight. The doctor is quite disorganized you see, and the HVAC systems in his labratory were never quite functioning properly, and his papers tended to scatter, and...well, he considered the Dark Gaia energy a bit of a novelty, and he kept it in small jars to weigh down his papers. His form of nostalgia, I suppose.

"The doctor had called me into his laboratory for some menial task. The task itself does not matter—what did matter were the paperweights. I had always thought it frankly obscene he stored Dark Gaia energy in that way. Even if one is not the type to pay respects to such earthly deities, it is at the very least profoundly inefficient to waste such energy dense fuels in that fashion. That was why I was kind enough to inform the doctor of his shortcomings in this area. And as was also typical of the doctor, he did not take this very well. At least not at first. It was not until he—"

Metal hesitated.

"Until he said that gave him an idea."

Sonic pulled away, staying quiet for a long moment.

He stared at the table then back at Metal. His voice was unusually soft. "Why are you telling me this?"

Metal pushed the corner of the book with the back of his finger. "I was not right to keep this a secret. Not after all you have done for me."

Sonic's eyes softened. He had never seen Metal look so guilty before.

"Mets..."

He exhaled, leaning close in order to wrap his arm around Metal in embrace. "It's not your fault. Sure, you gave Eggman the idea, but you're not the one who turned me into this."

He stared down at the floor then sighed. "That was  _me,_  if anyone."

Metal's posture wasn't stiff, but it wasn't slackened either. He leaned into Sonic's arm the same way someone might lean into the back of a seat in a medical office: comfortable enough yet acutely aware of everything that was going on around him. "Your fault? How could this possibly be your fault? The doctor was the one who set the trap, and I am the one who gave him the idea. None of that was your doing."

"Egghead knew I'd fall for his trap. He could've just blasted me with some sort of Dark Gaia beam or something, but he tricked me into doing it because he knew I wouldn't take him seriously. It happened when he unleashed Dark Gaia on the world too."

Sonic let go of Metal then leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. "I caused a lot of trouble from just being me. I guess I deserved to get transformed."

Metal slipped his fingers into the book cover, pressing down on the soft cardboard with the tips of his fingers.

"No." Metal's voice was so resolute it surprised even Sonic. "I will not hear you speaking of yourself in this way. You did not  _deserve_  anything, Sonic. That reasoning is simply fallacious. One mistake, and an understandable mistake at that, does not logically imply you  _deserve_  to be transformed. Do not speak of yourself in such a manner."

" _Two_  mistakes," Sonic corrected. "And I let Eggman walk all over me both times."

Metal went to retort, but he stopped as he caught the look in Sonic's eyes. It was one of sadness, and yet also one of resignation. The look of someone who had given up fighting a terminal disease.

"Sonic." Metal lifted his hand. He stared at it for a moment then gingerly laid it on the back of Sonic's hand. "The doctor did those things. It was not you. Do not blame yourself. Trust me. I have fallen into that trap before, and—well, it is not a good place to be. I do not want you to be there."

Sonic glanced over at Metal then down at Metal's hand on his own. Before his transformation, he would have been so sure Metal would have delighted in tearing him down for his mistakes.

But he supposed Metal was much more complex than he'd originally thought.

He shifted his hand beneath Metal's wrist, holding Metal's hand instead. "I don't want you to be there either."

Sonic rubbed his face with his other hand, trying not to look frustrated. "I get that I'm stuck like this. I've gotten over it. It's how everyone else feels about it that I'm worried about. I don't want anyone to be scared of me, and the paparazzi are definitely going to blow it way out of wack if they get even five minutes with me. If they make me sound like a threat, and I need to save someone..."

Sonic trailed off. He could just picture it. Eggman's robots going after trapped civilians, just to spite him. He reaches his clawed hand out, begging that they trust him.

They don't.

Sonic shut his eyes tight, not wanting to think about it any more.

Metal placed his other hand over Sonic's, holding it with both hands. "Even if you still look different, you are the same, are you not?"

Metal lifted his free hand and slowly placed it over Sonic's chest. "It is still you inside. Believe me, if anyone would know this, it is me. You are the same, Sonic. People will still trust you for the same reason they have always trusted you: because you are a hero."

Sonic's mouth dropped slightly as he stared down at the hand on his chest. Metal's hand was warm, reassuring, and somewhat buried in his fur.

He knew that Metal's words didn't hold complete truth. There would be some that would take time to trust him all over again.

Yet, for now, he let himself get lost in the innocence of the idea, unable to imagine any words he would want to hear more.

He took Metal's other hand as well, holding both of them gently, then suddenly turned in his chair and pulled Metal close. His arms went around Metal in a grateful hug.

"Thanks, Mets."

Metal probably had some sort of precalculated response for this, but there was no premeditation in his hesitation. Sonic's hug was both gentle and strong, the combination of both implying Sonic had a deep sense of control. For just as hedgehog Sonic could control his speed, this nocturnal could control his strength, and he gave just enough in the hug to hold Metal comfortably firm.

Metal pulled his arms around Sonic's back, returning the hug. "Of course."

Sonic relaxed, surprised but happy that Metal embraced him in return.

He was perhaps a bit too aware of the way Metal's arms rested just beneath his quills. When he looked around after a long moment, recalling where they were, he flushed and released Metal.

Pulling away, he scratched his cheek and pretended to be distracted by the wall. "A-anyway, you've been saving me a lot lately. Sorry for talking like that."

Metal turned away, sheepishly gazing at his chair. "Ah yes. Well. I am glad you feel better. And there are no hard feelings about the doctor? I do feel bad for what happened. I know we were enemies at the time but still."

Sonic looked back at him. "The past is the past, Mets. You feel bad about it, right? I've got no reason to hold it over you."

He hesitated then held Metal's hand once more, stroking the copper with his thumb. "So it's okay, all right?"

Metal's optics flickered. The back of his hands were covered in copper, which the doctor had specifically installed because copper conducts electricity so well. This had the unfortunate side effect of making Metal's copper extremely sensitive.

And Sonic's fingers were just so warm.

"Y-yes. Well, I am glad you understand at least. I assure you it was no malaise on my part. But I...well, I respect you, Sonic. You have done a lot for me, and you deserve to know the truth."

"I respect you too, Mets," Sonic replied softly.

His hand lingered on Metal's then pulled back as Sonic turned his attention to the books.

"So, ah, you probably wanna get to reading, right?"

Sonic stood up, smiling sheepishly as he looked around. "I'll go find something too since we might be here for a while."

"Ah. Yes." Metal settled back into his seat for a moment, eyeing his book. Then he picked it up, flipping back to his page. "This is why we came here after all."

"Right." Sonic nodded, then walked off towards one of the bookshelves, nearly tripping over his own chair on the way.

Metal sometimes had a curious talent for watching two things at once. He did just that now, watching Sonic walk off to the bookshelf, blue fur rippling across his muscles, and also looking at his book. There was text in his book. That was the point of books after all. To read the text.

Metal flipped the page. There was more text here.

This text was much less warm than Sonic's fur.


	14. Chapter 14

The window sill was narrow, only a hand's width at most, which left Metal only a couple centimeters margin of error for his task. Nevertheless, he did technically have enough room, and that was all that mattered.

Metal had learned how to do this from the library. The instructions were very specific. He would need a _glass_ cup. That part was important. Sunlight would stimulate the plant's stem, prompting it to sprout roots, and he would need a glass cup for that.

So he had borrowed such a cup from Sonic, and now he placed it on the window sill, bumping against the window pane with a soft click. The water in the cup sloshed just slightly, but Metal had taken this possibility into account. He had a big cup.

In his other hand, Metal held a single sprig of _ocimum basilicum._ Earlier, when he had found the sprig, it had been discarded in a bag of city waste, and most of the leaves had already been peeled off. That was a typical fate of herbs, he had learned. Herbs had a purpose. And when they had fulfilled that purpose—

They were discarded.

Metal snipped the bottom of the stem, cutting away the old, dried plant matter and opening up the stem's xylem tissue to absorb water.

Metal dropped the stem into the cup. Light poured in from the window. It was bright outside, and the dew on the freshly washed stem twinkled slightly.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. Heavy footsteps followed: Sonic's footsteps.

"Hey, Mets!"

"Just one moment—I am coming." Metal turned and took a step toward the door. But as he shifted his weight onto his heels, something inside of him creaked.

Metal tripped.

He was falling. He was going to fall on the carpet. He had to stop himself. He reached his hand out. He caught hold of the bed. The perfect sheets wrinkled.

So this was the difference between a robot and a living being. The plant would regrow roots on his own. That was the genius of living systems. They ran maintenance all on their own. But Metal—

Metal would never recover.

Sonic wandered in, his eyes going wide when he saw Metal's current state. "You okay?"

He walked up to Metal and offered his hand. "I'll bring you to Tails later on, alright? I need you in the kitchen for now."

Metal tried to stand, but his motors creaked. He clasped Sonic's hand with both his own to steady himself. "The kitchen? For what purpose?"

"Shh," Sonic hushed. Without hesitation, he lifted Metal up in one arm and promptly left the bedroom.

There was another knock on the front door.

"One sec!" Sonic shouted.

Walking into the kitchen, Sonic took a chair from the table and positioned it to face the window. He then set Metal down on it with a smile.

"Stay here and don't look, okay?" Sonic said with amusement.

"S-sonic—?" Metal stammered. The uneven tone in his voice surprised himself. It certainly had to be from his current lack of routine maintenance. Metal turned himself around in the chair and peered over the back. "What is this about?"

"Hey!" Sonic chuckled. "No peeking. Promise me."

Metal nodded slowly. Sonic was grinning at him with a happy, bemused look.

Metal turned back to the window. "I suppose I can wait here."

"Alright. Good."

Metal heard Sonic's footsteps muffle as he walked back into the living room. The only thing Metal saw was the wall in front of him.

Whatever was happening, Metal could only hear it. There was the sound of Sonic opening the front door, then the sound of Sonic talking to whoever was on the other side in a hushed tone. Then came multiple footsteps.

Auditory feedback was something, and yet it still wasn't quite enough to determine what Sonic was doing within a sufficient confidence interval. What _was_ Sonic doing? Talking to someone clearly, but to whom?

And for what purpose?

"Thanks!" Sonic finally said to whoever had been inside. Then Metal heard the door shut again and Sonic's footsteps approaching.

"You can get up now," Sonic said.

Metal bolted upright with perhaps more speed than he had ever mustered since his accident. His feet scuttled against the kitchen floor, and he had to lean on the chair to steady himself. "You have finished?"

"Yup!" Sonic said, sounding absurdly proud. "But..."

He helped Metal stand upright again, only to then stand behind Metal and cover Metal's eyes with his hands.

"You can't look just yet. I need you to walk to your bedroom first."

"Ah—" Metal hesitated. Sonic's hands were so large, and also so warm. And they _completely_ covered his optical sensors. Metal couldn't see a thing.

"I suppose I shall try—" Metal lifted his foot to take a step, but without his optical sensors, moving proved harder than he thought. So he lifted his own hands and placed them against the back of Sonic's hands, the tufts of fur along Sonic's wrists brushing Metal's fingers.

Sonic was very patient as he lead Metal slowly across the floor and to Metal's room.

"Okay..." Sonic paused for dramatic effect before removing his hands. "You can look!"

Metal's optics clicked into focus. There was the bed with sheets still conspicuously wrinkled. There was his plant, still wilted. And there was also—

There was a bookshelf; a massive, double bookshelf made from dark oak wood sanded and polished to a smooth finish.

Metal's voice was very quiet. "This is beautiful."

"Yeah?" Sonic asked happily. He approached the bookshelf, gesturing to it. "I saw it while we were in Spagonia and wanted to get it for you!"

Metal trailed behind Sonic, his steps remarkably steady. Upon reaching the bookshelf, he reached his hand out and trailed his fingers across the grain. "You got it solely for me?"

Sonic nodded. "Mhm!" He looked to the bookshelf with an amused grin. "Definitely didn't get it for me."

Glancing back at Metal, Sonic added, "You like it?"

Metal considered those words. While Sonic did read occasionally, he hardly needed a collection of books. Sonic had his interests and advantages of course, but data collection wasn't one of them.

Which meant—

"This bookshelf is all mine…" Metal trailed off, glancing back at the plant. Its stem seemed a little firmer now that it had some water.

He turned back to Sonic. "This means so much to me. I—" Metal cut himself off, looking away sheepishly.

Sonic smiled fondly, stepping closer to Metal and gently holding his shoulder. "You're welcome, Mets. You deserve it."

Metal looked up, meeting Sonic's gaze. Sonic was so much taller than Metal in his nocturnal form.

His now permanent noctual form.

"It was very thoughtful of you," Metal said, "to get me this. Today I was just considering what I should do now, now that I no longer have a purpose and—"

Metal glanced back at the plant. He shook his head. "...and I am still not certain of the answer to that. But this bookshelf—it is a start, I think. The shelves may be empty now, but that merely means I have the opportunity to fill them with whatever books I choose."

Sonic hummed in thought, seemingly amazed at Metal's capacity for thinking, then wrapped his arm around Metal reassuringly.

"You don't have to do anything for now," he said softly. "You can stay here for as long as you want. You're your own person now, so whatever you do's up to you."

Metal didn't ease into Sonic's touch but neither did he stiffen. As strong as Sonic was, he had perfect control, and he always put just the right amount of weight on Metal.

"I do appreciate it, Sonic. I will accept your offer." Metal studied his hands. "I have a lot to learn still but…"

He looked up to Sonic. "It is easier knowing I can rely on you."

Sonic nodded with a smile then glanced back at the bookshelf. "We'll go to the store tomorrow and see if they have any books you like. Sound good?"

Metal pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Yes, that would be a good idea. It is good to get out. It is good to gather data."

Sonic snorted, clearly amused, then walked out of the room and headed back toward the living room.

"In the meantime, you wanna watch TV or something?"

"TV? You mean television?" Metal drummed his fingers for a moment but then trailed Sonic into the living room. "I do not believe I have seen much of this device. The doctor owns one of course, but there was no such opportunity to view it."

Sonic chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, _I_ own this one and _I've_ hardly viewed it."

Metal stopped at the threshold of the living room and peeked inside curiously. "So what is the purpose of the device?"

"Uh...to watch things?" Sonic replied with a shrug. "Some of the channels are like your books, just in..."

He paused as if trying to think of how to phrase it in a way Metal would understand. "Visual form?"

Metal crossed the carpet carefully and sat down on Sonic's couch. "Yes, I understand this. But what is the purpose of watching things? Why not get the data from a book or download it off the network?"

Sonic frowned. "I guess..."

He picked up the remote, turning it gently in his hand, a task made slightly difficult due to his claws.

"I just figured you might wanna try. Technology n' all."

Metal nodded solemnly. "Perhaps the allure of television is not merely the data then. Could it be the experience of the mode of transmission itself?"

Metal held out his hand and gestured to the remote. "May I?"

Sonic handed the remote over, his smile returning. "It's your day, so put on whatever you want, no matter how boring I might think it is."

Metal ran his fingertip lightly across the buttons. Sonic had said it was his day. Even after their years of rivalry, Sonic was giving him this.

Metal clicked the button. The television flickered to life. Sound blared out from the speakers. Metal winced. "Why is it so unpleasant?"

Sonic let out a small whine, ears flopping down in hopes of saving him from the noise.

"H-heh, it's because you've got the volume way high. Here..."

He pulled Metal closer with one hand, placing the other underneath Metal's as he helped maneuver Metal's thumb to the right button.

"This one."

Metal held perfectly still. Sonic's hand was so much larger than his own that it practically engulfed his entire wrist. Sonic still had his trademarked dexterity, however, and Metal soon found the button. He immediately pressed it, and the blaring reduced to a more manageable level.

"That is much better," Metal said. Sonic's hand really was very dexterous in spite of its bulk. "Thank you."

Sonic smirked, unusually smug for such a small thing. "No problem."

He pointed at the device. "Those buttons right there are for changing the channel."

Metal pressed one of the buttons. The television screen flickered as a new program replaced the old one. This time the screen showed a chef preparing something in an elaborate kitchen. Metal hit the button again. The inside of a factory flashed on the screen, the raw ingredients of some future product rolling down on conveyor belts. Metal hit the button again. The kitchen came back.

"I see. So we traverse the options in a linear fashion."

"Yup." Sonic had made himself comfortable, shifting forward in his seat so he could lean back. "Just keep going until you find something you wanna watch."

Metal clicked the remote again. The factory came back, this time the products rolling through into packaging for shipment. "They are skipping steps. The doctor had a machine like this. It required maintenance to operate. Why are they skipping that?"

Sonic chuckled. "Probably because normal people wouldn't understand a word of it?" He glanced over at Metal. "You're just too smart for this channel."

Metal fidgeted with the remote for a moment. Then the magnitude of Sonic's words hit him. "You think I am smart?"

Metal held the remote across his lap using the tips of his fingers. "That contradicts the information the doctor gave me."

Sonic rolled his eyes. "What've I told you, Mets?" He placed a reassuring hand against Metal's back. "Forget about Eggman. I know it's hard, but he didn't get you. He just wanted you to kill me."

He smiled. "But you didn't. You learned. That makes you smarter than he'll _ever_ be."

Metal sat there quietly. The weight of Sonic's hand was firm and reassuring on his back. It was protective in that way. The doctor wasn't here. The doctor was wrong. That left Metal with not much but the null hypothesis.

Metal nodded slowly. "Thank you, Sonic."

He then quickly changed the channel again.

Sonic nodded in return, satisfied.

His hand lingered on Metal's back before it slowly retreated.

The next station flashed onto the screen. A woman was talking into a microphone. She wore a cheap yet expensive-looking blouse and a face full of makeup that had to be at least a centimeter thick.

"And now we bring you a special report from the streets of Spagonia—where we found none other than...you guessed it! The infamous Sonic the Hedgehog."

Metal knew what Sonic's relaxed position looked like. Sonic had just been in it.

He wasn't in it anymore.

A man walked onto the screen. His suit was just as cheap, and he had his speckled, gray hair slicked back with at least two bottles of hair gel. "Or maybe it'd be more accurate to call him something else now, isn't that right, Beth?"

"That's right, Darrell. Here on 7News, we have breaking evidence that Sonic is, in fact, no longer a hedgehog."

Darrell took over, elbowing Beth into the rear of the shot. "That's right! And it's even worse than that! Could Sonic actually be no longer a hero as well?"

Metal held the remote tightly in both hands. Sonic, no longer a hero? But that was objectively false. So this program was airing a falsehood.

Sonic watched quietly, although with furrowed brows.

The screen changed. Beth and Darrell were gone, replaced by a grainy video of a forest. The resolution was so bad it may as well been stock footage. Sinister music played in the background, and when Beth spoke, her voice was quiet. "The forests of Spagonia, a pastoral land. Just north of there, farmers plant their fields. Children play in the meadows. Or at least, that's how things used to be. Now—"

The screen transitioned again. Darrell was standing in front of a menagerie of crumpled trees. Dirt clumped to twisted roots exposed to the open air. It was also suddenly night time.

"For a long time, this brutal destruction of the forest remained a deep, unsolved mystery. But now no more. The metaphorical smoking gun that proves the agent of this destruction is none other than Sonic himself."

Darrell stepped up to the camera. He was close enough that Metal could see the wrinkles under his eyes. "Still skeptical? You won't be, not when you see this—"

Darrell pulled his free hand out from behind his back. He was clutching a towel.

Sonic's mouth dropped open.

"We found this at the scene of the crime! To the untrained eye, it may look like an ordinary towel. But using our world-renown team of genius forensic scientists, we found this!"

The camera panned to the towel and zoomed in slowly. At first, there appeared to be nothing but the towel. But, as the camera continued to zoom, a few strands of deep blue fur became visible.

"Coincidence? I think not." Darrell said off-screen. "Whoever destroyed the forest has dark, blue fur."

The screen changed again. Beth was back, standing in front of more footage of the streets of Spagonia. A crowd of people were huddled around something.

Wait. Metal remembered this scene.

That crowd was the paparazzi.

As soon as Sonic panned into view, the screen froze at exactly the right instant to make Sonic appear as if he were snarling. It then proceeded to slowly zoom into him.

"What a hideous monster, isn't it?" Beth said. She was superimposed atop the image, and she looked directly into the camera. "Those teeth and that fur—disgusting! But we've seen this before, haven't we?"

Sonic clutched the arm of the couch.

Metal's optics widened. These were the people, the pointless people, who had harassed Sonic before. They were back. Which meant their motive was suspect.

And they had insulted Sonic!

She paused for effect then continued, "This is what he looked like when the planet shattered before."

The camera zoomed into Sonic's face even more closely. Sonic's unblinking eyes stared back at them from the screen.

"Sonic," Beth said.

Darrell walked onto the screen, still holding the towel. "Sonic the _former_ Hedgehog."

Darrell held up the towel. "And whose fur is on this towel?"

The camera zoomed further and further until nothing but the towel and Sonic's face took up the screen.

"A perfect match!" Beth said so loudly she was almost shrieking.

Darrell elbowed her out of the way again. "Damning enough, isn't it? Sonic, the monster who destroyed the forest. But it gets even worse."

The camera footage cut to Metal. Despite his short height, the camera had caught just the right angle to make it appear as if he were looming over someone with his hand held high.

"We all know who this is, don't we?" Beth said.

"Metal Sonic," Darrell said. "That villainous robot created by the dastardly Dr. Eggman. He was seen with Sonic when he assaulted one of our very own crew members."

The footage started playing again. Metal remembered this moment well. He had held the paparazzi's microphone and—

The camera cut to Metal's hand. The speed of the footage slowed, and the microphone crunched audibly.

Sonic grumbled under his breath, "It wasn't an assault. _They_ were assaulting _you._ "

Metal looked down at his feet. He couldn't even look at the television. He couldn't look at Sonic.

Beth stepped in front of the footage. "Now, you may be asking yourself. Why is Sonic a terrible monster? Why is the evil Metal Sonic suddenly working for him? Luckily, we here at 7News have the answers."

"It's simple, Beth," Darrell said. "Sonic must have made a deal with Dr. Eggman. Sonic's always been an arrogant one. Being the fastest thing alive was no longer good enough for him. He wanted to be the strongest thing alive too. So, in exchange for doing Dr. Eggman's dirty work, the good doctor gave Sonic these monstrous powers. He even threw his old robot in as a bonus."

Sonic gritted his teeth.

"Not just as a bonus," Beth said. "Sonic's ego knows no bounds. What better way for him to stop us from uncovering his terrible truth than to own one of Dr. Eggman's robots himself? Not just any robot, but the one that looks like Sonic himself. Sonic must have thought he could use Metal Sonic to stop us.

"His efforts were in vain, however! Nothing can stop us from uncovering the truth. Now, stay tuned. Just how big is Sonic's narcissism? We'll uncover the truth after this message from our sponsors."

Sonic suddenly pushed himself off the couch. His eyes were near slits, and he glared at the television as if he was about to set it on fire.

"First off, Metal doesn't belong to anyone, _especially_ not me! He's his own person!"

An animalistic snarl left him, so loud and harsh that Metal could have sworn he could feel its vibration.

Metal quickly turned the television off. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence in the room.

He turned to Sonic and said quietly, "They insulted you. They gathered this footage to specifically slander you."

"Tch." Sonic shook his head, crossing his arms. "I can't believe they'd say something like that about you. They don't even _know_ you!"

Metal studied the remote in his hands. "Unbelievable. After all you have done for this world, these pointless commentators use your misfortune to their advantage."

Metal flipped the remote over. The case over the batteries was perfectly smooth. "And yet, this does not even bother you. You are angry on my behalf."

Sonic sighed. "I'm used to them doing it to me. They've always got something to say about what I do. Besides, it's my fault."

He frowned. "They only tried to talk to you because you were with me."

Metal slipped the back off the remote control. Just as expected, the inside was clean and smooth. Without wear, there were no imperfections.

"Sonic." Metal clicked the backing back on with enough force to mar the plastic slightly. "These people are terrible. They spread falsehoods, and there is nothing we can do to stop them. How could any of this possibly be your fault?"

"I'm not blaming myself. Just..." Sonic huffed, plopping back down on the couch. "It's bad enough that I'm like this. I'm trying to make a good first impression. I don't think many people believe them anyway, but..."

His gaze lowered to the ground. "I _did_ beat up Silver Sonic really bad."

Metal scratched at one of the dents along his chassis.

He set his hand on Sonic's knee. "Sonic. Listen. We cannot always control what people say about us. No matter how brave, how heroic, or how good you are, it does not matter. Some people will simply say terrible things. It is their fault for being so shallow. Just because they think your new form is monstrous does not mean you yourself are a monster. If there is anything I have learned, it is that appearances are deceiving."

He hesitated then moved his hand up to Sonic's shoulder. "You are still good, Sonic. Why just look at yourself! You are offended on my behalf. If you were really as awful as they say, you would not care for me. But you do care. That means something, does it not?"

Sonic's expression softened. "Yeah, I know."

He stared up at the ceiling. "I lost control of myself though. That's just a fact. I haven't done it again lately thanks to you, but I've gotta be careful."

Metal withdrew his hand. He was looking directly at Sonic. "Thanks to me?"

"Yeah." Sonic smiled at him. "Tails said that I was losing control because my Dark Gaia energy spiked whenever I was stressed out. You cheered me up."

Metal didn't respond at first. For a long time, he merely stared at his hands. Then he turned back to Sonic. "Yes, well, that is the least I could do to repay you, Sonic. You have helped me tremendously as well, and I am glad I can return the favor."

"No problem, Mets."

Sonic hunched over, taking a moment to rub his head and alleviate himself of a headache.

"So...y'think I should just _not worry_ about this news thing?"

Metal leaned back into the couch and nodded. "Yes. If these people want to be horrible on television, is beyond your purview. But…"

He turned to Sonic. "But perhaps if we went out again, more people would see you this way, would they not? They would see the truth, and they would know the television is only broadcasting falsehoods."

Sonic nodded with a smile, looking more confident than before.

He stood, hands on his hips. "Well, we'll see what happens."

He cast a reassuring glance at Metal, smirking. "Maybe we can take Tails' plane and head out to Apotos tomorrow so everyone can see how awesome you are. Have you been there?"

Metal stood up. His legs still wobbled slightly. "This sounds like a reasonable action. I have not been there before, and we can have Tails repair my motors while we are at his place."

Sonic chuckled. He then glanced back at the TV, frowned, and looked back at Metal.

"By the way, Mets? Don't feel bad about what happened in Spagonia, alright?" He smiled reassuringly. "I'm still glad you were there for me."

Metal nodded slowly. Even after all their years as enemies, even after the paparazzi managed to make Sonic look worse for Metal's presence, Metal's presence still didn't bother Sonic.

How had Metal gone years obsessively gathering data about Sonic, only to miss this most important piece?

"Of course, Sonic. I am glad I could be there for you."

Metal took another wobbling step.

"Now let us show everyone while those broadcasters were wrong."

Sonic placed a hand on Metal's should, helping stabilize him. His smile was wide.

"Let's."


	15. Chapter 15

Tails was a very honest person, both through word and expression. Years of being with Sonic had given him the confidence to share his opinion as his pleased.

Thus he didn't bother to hide his dislike of Metal very much. While he respected Sonic's decisions, he didn't always agree with them. So he sighed as he worked, thinking through the many questions in his head, every twist of a screw doing more to ease him.

Then there was a knock at the door, and all the questions came flooding back into his mind. Why did Sonic trust Metal so much? Was Sonic oblivious to Metal's actions or just willingly optimistic?

Tails turned away from his work. He was fixing an important piece of Metal's that had been crushed in someway that Tails still didn't understand. Did it mean that Metal had tried to betray Eggman again? Why now?

And more importantly, why—

Tails froze in surprise, his hand on the door as he stared ahead.

Why was Metal at the door?

Metal stood straighter than a toy soldier. Even his hands were straight—not closed into fists, not slack or loose. They were stiff, his fingers pointing down to the ground as if they were lined up. "Greetings, Tails. May I enter?"

Tails peeked outside, looking left and right. Glaring at Metal suspiciously, he asked, "Where's Sonic?"

Metal continued to stand perfectly straight. He stared directly at Tails. "He said he wished to examine the Tornado briefly. It follows, therefore, that he is in the aircraft hanger."

Tails narrowed his eyes. After a nerve-wracking few seconds, he shrugged, walking back inside. "You can come in then."

When Metal lifted his leg, there was a grinding, screeching noise, and his leg didn't quite bend at the knee. Still, he somehow managed to hobble himself inside. He even turned back to close the door.

"I am in need of repairs," Metal beeped.

"Again?" Tails wanted to groan, but he knew Metal couldn't help it. Given the nature of his damage, occasional repairs were necessary.

"Fine, but remember, I'm doing this for  _Sonic,_  okay?"

Tails approached the table, gesturing to it before moving to get his tools.

Metal screeched over to the table. With his arms still stiff, he heaved himself up to its top and landed weakly on his side. "I know."

Tails brought over his toolbox, deliberately letting it clang as it fell onto the table.

He opened it, fishing inside for the tool he needed.

Metal lurched upright. He couldn't sit up quite straight, so he leaned over with his elbow against the table. "Thank you."

Tails glanced up at Metal, surprised to be thanked, but then shook his head and turned to the tool in his hand.

He wouldn't let Metal trick him.

Tails examined Metal, shifting the robot with little care. He mumbled, "...I saw that report yesterday."

"Ah." Metal slumped over as Tails moved him. "On the television?"

"I know that stuff about Sonic isn't true, but you didn't exactly make a good first impression," Tails replied, neutral but firm.

"Perhaps." Metal lifted his arm for Tails to examine his shoulder joints. "Although I am not certain if those were the type of people with whom I could ever make a good impression. If they were so willing to lie about Sonic, what makes you believe it is possible to ever impress them?"

Tails went silent. He hated that he couldn't disagree with Metal.

"...I guess," Tails muttered.

Metal continued, "This being said, you are not wrong. I saw the broadcast. To say they were not charitable is an understatement."

Metal hesitated. "It was not my intention to cause Sonic trouble. Those broadcasters—they were harassing him before I even arrived. I do not know why Sonic tolerates their intrusion."

Tails turned Metal around again and started to work. He said dubiously, "Really?"

"Indeed." Metal lifted his chin up to give Tails better access to his chassis. "They had swarmed him, and they were pestering him with intrusive and inappropriate questions. But you know Sonic. He is far too polite. I had to be assertive on his behalf."

Tails looked up, again finding a difference between what he expected Metal to say and what Metal had actually said.

Tails shook his head. "It doesn't really matter anyway. They would've run that story with or without you."

Metal paused for a moment. He couldn't move his head in this position, but his optics flickered down to Tails. "Yes, I believe there was little probability of any other outcome. But..."

Metal trailed off. "But there may yet be a partial solution."

Tails furrowed his brows, not looking directly at Metal. "What are you getting at?"

"It is better, in this case, to...what is the saying? To fight fire with fire?"

Tails paused. "Like...making the  _interviewers_  look bad?"

Metal couldn't shake his head, but his optics flickered slightly. "Negative. These interviewers make themselves look bad, so that approach would be of little utility.

"Rather, I think the problem is one of information. If these interviewers are the only parties reporting, people will have only one source of information. Therefore a stronger approach would be to share the truth."

"So," Tails began, trying to understand in the midst of working on Metal's repair, "you want to get Sonic a  _good_  interview? Why?"

"Yes. We need to get Sonic a fair interview. It is to correct the falsehoods spread by the paparazzi. If people see Sonic in this way, they will understand the prior broadcast it not factual."

"No, I mean  _why_  would you want that?" Tails asked. "Since when did you seem to care so much about Sonic?"

"Those interviewers spread falsehoods to make Sonic look bad. Is it not enough to want the truth? How can people make rational decisions without factual data?"

"Right," Tails said, sounding impassive. But the following silence was unnerving, so he decided to humor Metal. "I mean, since no one knows where Sonic lives, I'm usually the one who gets all the interviewers at my door. I might know a few who do a good job without being biased."

Metal set his wrist into Tails' palm for repair. "Ah yes. This is good. I was wanting to ask you about this actually. Do you know of a proper interviewer we could query?"

"For  _Sonic's sake,_  yes." Tails glanced up, brow raised. "Are you going to go with him?"

Metal met Tails' gaze. "I intend to, yes."

"Does Sonic trust you to do that?" Tails pressed. "For all I know, you could turn on him at the last minute. Two bad interviews could  _really_  hurt Sonic."

Metal's gaze was piercing. "Do you think I am incompetent? If I were to betray Sonic, there would be ample easier ways to do it than this."

Tails eased back. As much as he hated to admit it, Metal had a point.

He couldn't believe he was doing this. "Augh, okay, fine. I'll try to get in contact with someone."

"Thank you," Metal said. There was a pause as Tails examined his wrist. "May I make another request? It would be ideal to be in contact with someone in Apotos."

"Apotos?" Tails echoed. "I mean, I know it's a nice place, but why so specific?"

Metal pulled back his wrist. He held it up to the light and twisted it once. The screeching was gone. "Sonic wished to visit the location. The calm scenery would be good for him after all that happened. And if we are to travel anyway, it would be best to meet the interviewer where Sonic would already be."

"So..." Tails tilted his head. "You want to go there because...Sonic wanted to go there?"

Metal looked at Tails. He said nothing. The ceiling fan above them beat the air rhythmically.

"Yes," Metal finally said. "That is why we are going to Apotos."

Tails paused. It was odd to him. He had seen Orbot and Cubot sporting personalities, but neither struck him as particularly capable of critical thinking. Yet here was Metal, who Tails had thought was nothing but a killing machine. Metal had not only made a plan, but the robot seemed to actually care about what Sonic wanted.

"...Okay. Once we're done here, I'll call someone up," Tails promised. "Then I'll give you the address to give Sonic."

Metal nodded. Thanks to Tails' repair work, he was finally limber again. "Thank you. I do believe this is the best course of action."


	16. Chapter 16

The television studio stood along the great cliffs of oceanside Apotos. Great, thick sheets of glass covered the sides of its top floors, exposing the view of the endless expanse. Television preferred everything scenic and beautiful.

The dressing room, however, was much less impressive. Devoid of any natural light, the only source of illumination came from great, beaming bulbs that cast harsh light from the ceiling. Glossy mirrors were plastered along every wall. Excess casting equipment laid strewn across the room in half organized cabinets.

Metal entered the room first. He walked quickly, and once inside, he held the door open for Sonic. "Room 308," was all he said.

"Thanks," Sonic said with a smile. He walked past Metal, chuckling at all the fancy equipment that laid in unorganized heaps.

Sonic sat down in one of the chairs and looked at Metal with a glance that resembled curiosity. "Seriously, Mets, you didn't have to do this for me, you know?"

Metal stepped backward and folded his arms, looking at the ceiling. "I did not have to do it, no. But this is the optimal way to handle matters. If there is a problem, why not pursue the solution?"

Sonic smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I get what you mean."

Metal nodded. There was a moment more of awkward silence before he continued, "Incidentally, how was I not aware of your piloting skills? I thought I had gathered all the data on you, and yet I never knew you could fly a plane so efficiently."

Sonic shrugged. "I let Tails do a lot of the flying, but that actually used to be my plane. Just haven't flown in a long time."

He smirked. "I _swear_ that Tails made that seat smaller. Must've been funny watching a big guy like me use it."

"Ah, that must be why Tails often pilots the craft." Metal stepped up to one of the mirrors. He trailed his finger along the top, collecting a small film of dust. He eyed the mirror itself. Sonic's image looked back at him, large and bulky, and yet there was still that trademarked amusement on his face.

Metal turned back. "Although considering that, it may be expedient to prepare you for the interview now, would it not?"

"Prepare me?" Sonic echoed. "Yeah, I guess it'd be good for me to be ready for anything they might ask."

He stared back at his reflection in the mirror. "And, uh...probably should fix _this_ too."

He ran his claws through his fur, trying ineffectively to smooth it out.

Metal made a soft beep, shaking his head just slightly. Sonic's fur was utterly windblown. He nearly looked like someone had thrown a down pillow in the dryer and then let the feathers break out.

"Here," Metal scooped a brush from the vanity behind him, "I believe we need the proper equipment for this task."

Sonic glanced at the brush. "Right. Thanks, Mets—"

He paused, hand partly extended out towards the brush. The brush was puny, and Sonic's hands were massive.

"...Hey, uh, you're good at details, yeah? Could you do it?"

Metal was standing with his hand half stretched out to Sonic. "Could I do it? Brush your fur, you mean?"

Metal glanced at the brush, then Sonic, then the brush again. Finally, he nodded with a quick beep. "It is true that I am the greatest at detail work. I suppose this solution is optimal."

Stepping up to the back of the chair, Metal lifted the brush. The fur along Sonic's back was an unkempt heap. Utterly disordered. Utterly unorganized.

Metal loved to organize.

"Sonic? Perhaps it would be optimal if you took a seat on the floor in front of the mirror. It is impossible to reach certain segments of your fur with this seat the way it is, and this will prevent the optimal sorting of your fur."

"Huh? Oh, right."

Sonic shifted, pushing himself off the chair and placing himself strategically in front of the mirror. His unfamiliar, bestial reflection stared back at him.

Metal needed a strategic solution to order Sonic's fur. So he stepped in front of Sonic, then behind Sonic, then to his side. But no matter which side he looked at, there was still no order to the windblown pattern.

Very well—so a greedy algorithm was needed. He would make the optimal local choice in hopes of finding the global maximum. Metal could do this.

He stepped in front of Sonic again. "May I see your forearm?"

Sonic giggled. "I mean, technically, you're seeing it now, aren't you?"

He still held up his arm for Metal, smiling as he did so.

Metal rolled his eyes. "May I _examine_ your forearm?"

Still, there was a certain comfort in knowing Sonic was in high spirits. Sonic had rarely joked like that since his transformation, so to hear it now—maybe this interview would really work.

Sonic's forearm was so large Metal was nearly buried beneath it. Nevertheless, he wedged it between his own forearm and his chest and lifted the brush with the other hand. "Given the shape of your arm, I believe it makes sense to part the fur along the center. This will allow for an even distribution."

"So basically, you know how to make it look nice," Sonic guessed with a chuckle. "I trust you."

"Of course. 'Looking nice' is a matter of pattern matching, is it not? This is not so difficult."

After a few minutes, Metal finished brushing both Sonic's arms and stepped back. Sonic's fur now laid smooth and satisfying along his arms. This accentuated the sharp curves of the forms beneath his fur. It would show well for the camera.

Now for Sonic's back. A quick examination revealed a center part would be optimal again. With Sonic's triangular form, this would ensure a proper pattern.

Metal started at the top, brushing the thick fur down in smooth strokes. "Remarkable. Given the thickness of your fur, I would have thought a great deal would have come out from brushing. But that is not the case at all. There are no loose or messy strands for the brush to pull out. You have a fascinatingly healthy coat."

"Really?" Sonic stared down at the brushed fur. "I always figured that I'd just shed everywhere since there's so much."

"Of course, some shedding will be unavoidable." Metal worked his way down from the nape of Sonic's neck to the small of his back, taking care to gently tug out any snags. "But your coat is very healthy. There is not as much fur loss as you would think."

"That's good," Sonic said, a bit of relief in his voice. "Still kinda miss my cool blue color though."

Metal stepped back, getting a broader picture of his work. The fur on Sonic's back was nearly perfect, except…

Except for those back quills. They were more fur than quill now, and it was jutting out at an awkward angle. This had to be corrected.

Placing his hand against one of the quills, Metal brushed the other side. "Well perhaps now that this form is permanent, your fur may lighten with sun exposure. It is not entirely impossible, although admittedly unlikely, for this to occur."

As Metal touched the quill, Sonic stiffened, his ears pointing up.

His ears twitched. "A-aw, heh, so you agree with me."

"Well, technically," Metal moved to the other quill, working the brush bristles into the base to ensure proper coverage, "while your original fur color had a certain aesthetic appeal under certain lighting conditions, your current fur color is, in fact, still blue. It is just a different chroma."

Sonic stiffened again. "Eh, yeah. I guess it's not the _worst_ color." He tilted his head, eyeing the white at the tip of his head quills. "And maybe the white would've looked weird with my old blue."

While Sonic's back quills were only a mere 87% of optimal fur distribution levels, Metal pulled his hands back. "Sonic? Is something the matter? You keep tensing."

Sonic's ear twitched again. "Really? Ah, didn't notice." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

Metal eyed Sonic skeptically but didn't press the matter further. 87% would have to do.

"Well," Metal stood in front of Sonic, "there is only one last area to brush."

Metal stepped forward, closing the distance to Sonic's head.

Sonic blinked, reeling back just slightly.

With his hands out, Metal cupped the side of Sonic's cheek. The fur here was much softer, much more fine, than the coarse fur of Sonic's back.

Metal lifted the brush and, gingerly, he began to smooth the fur along the top of Sonic's head. "We are nearly done. I assure you, this will be optimal."

Sonic paused, oddly silent for once.

"...Y-yeah, take your time."

He leaned into Metal's hand.

Metal inched closer. He could feel the heat radiating off Sonic's fur. Lightly, he brushed the fine fur along the sides of Sonic's head. He was so close. Sonic's eyes were right there. Sonic's eyes were very green.

Metal pulled back quickly, setting the brush back on the vanity without turning away. He tilted the mirror. "What do you think?"

Sonic leaned towards the mirror, eyeing his fur and turning about.

He grinned. "You did _great,_ Mets!"

Metal crossed his arms and cocked his head. "There is still something is off. Your fur—it is now too smooth, I think. True aesthetic appeal requires both harmony and discord. Let me see—"

Metal stepped up to Sonic again, both hands empty. He paused for just a moment and then, his arms outstretched, he cupped Sonic's sides. Bunches of smooth and lustrous fur brushed around Metal's palms. Metal ran his fingers through it. "Better...it is almost perfect—"

Sonic swallowed, cheeks pink at the unexpected contact.

"Uh—thanks."

Metal stood back. Closer. He ran his fingers across Sonic's cheeks. Closer. Just this tuft of fur on Sonic's head and—

"There. It is optimal."

Sonic nodded quickly. "I-I'm ready then?"

"Your appearance is optimal, yes. But—" Metal placed his hand on Sonic's shoulder. "Are _you_ ready?"

Sonic stared at Metal's hand on his shoulder, then brought his own hand up to grasp Metal's.

He smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

Metal made eye contact with Sonic. He nodded. "Then let us enter the studio."

The backstage curtain was thick and black and muffled nearly all sound. Still, standing this close to it, they could make out the sound of the host on the other side.

"Thank you, thank you. Apotos Daily—filmed right here in front of our live studio audience!"

The sound of audience cheers petered through the curtain.

"I'm Fotini, your host!"

A dramatic pause. Right before the audience could cheer, she continued, "There's been a rumor across the world lately. I'm sure you all know it. It's about the world famous Sonic the Hedgehog. The rumors say that he's furry and evil. Well..."

She leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. The audience would be on the edge of their seats.

"What if I told you that's one hundred percent true?"

A hushed whisper broke out across the audience.

"Oh, not that he's evil. You'd have to be really dumb to figure that from so little information, especially if you just so happen to be a news crew who wants to stir people up just for the controversy."

She cleared her throat and paused dramatically. The audience laughed.

Fotini continued, "He is definitely furry though, and with his changed look, we thought we'd hear the truth, straight from the source! That's right, today's special guest is Sonic himself!"

This was their cue.

Sonic breathed in, then stepped out and onto the stage. He stopped momentarily to look over at the audience, who had mixed reactions. That was expected.

Sonic gave a nod to Fotini, then sat down on the couch, leaving obvious room for Metal.

Metal strode out onto the stage. His metallic heels clicked sharply against the smooth wood. Spotlights blared overhead. It was bright here—like he had just walked outside. He was halfway to Sonic's side when he turned.

The crowd. Each individual audience member was staring at him. They all were. Peering at him.

Metal's steps slowed.

"Mets?" Sonic called. He followed Metal's gaze back to the crowd, then smiled at Metal sympathetically.

He stretched an arm forward, pulling Metal towards him and gently sitting Metal down on the couch.

"It's okay," he assured in a whisper. "They'll love you. I know they will. They just need to get to know you first."

Metal stiffened. He gave Sonic a quick nod then turned his head quickly to face Fontini.

Metal could finally get a closer look at their host now. Fontini appeared to be young, maybe in her mid-twenties, and her darker complexion was typical of a native Apotoican. Her hair was lighter, and she wore it up in a thick, professional ponytail.

Fontini smiled at them. It was a remarkably genuine smile for a television host. "Welcome! We are glad to have you on the program."

"Thanks, Fotini," Sonic said politely. "Glad to have this whole situation worked out."

The problem with human protocols was that they were just so vague. What was Metal supposed to say? What was optimal?

Metal said nothing.

Fotini looked at the audience while she spoke, "Well then, we'll just jump straight into this. I'll start with the question everyone is wanting to know: why are you like this?"

Sonic smiled, leaning forward and letting his arm rest casually on his leg.

"Well, unlike what _some_ people might've thought—"

He gave a knowing yet amused look to the camera. "I didn't _ask_ Eggman to turn me into this. I was just in a fight and got transformed."

He chuckled. "You can even ask Eggman; no _way_ that guy would wanna work with a goody-two-shoes like me."

Metal sunk further into his seat. Sonic knew the protocol.

Fotini laughed. It was the strangest thing—she kept looking at the audience instead of Sonic. "You're right about that one! Everyone knows you've always been the one to stop Dr. Eggman. And since when has Dr. Eggman teamed up with anyone?"

She smiled at nothing again. Metal studied that, following her gaze. She was looking at—

Oh. She was looking at the camera. Of course.

"But then that begs the question. Why not change back? Are you stuck like this, Sonic?"

Sonic sighed, leaning back. "Yeah, sorry to disappoint everyone, but I'm stuck this way for life."

Multiple whispers and murmurs broke out across the audience, but it was hard to tell if they were sad about their favorite hedgehog looking different now or if they were sympathizing with him.

"It's not all bad though. I'm getting used to it."

"That must be difficult, Sonic. It seems you're taking it well though!" Fotini made an exaggerated sorrowful expression for the camera. Metal thought it looked somewhere between how one might look at a funeral and how one might look standing in line for groceries.

Anyway...if the camera was hung 32.4 degrees to Fotini, and if Metal slid back just a little further, taking the arctangent of that, no one would see him and—

"Metal Sonic."

Metal froze mid-slide.

"How does he play into this?"

"Funny you say that." Sonic glanced over at Metal. "Mets here is the reason I'm taking it so well. That's why we've been hanging out. Yeah, Eggman made him, but we went through some stuff and we're friends now.

"We took the 'Sonic' part off though. It's just 'Metal' now." Sonic smiled. "He's his own person."

Metal nodded, but when he realized everyone watching couldn't even see the gesture due to his prior strategy of hiding, he leaned forward just slightly. "This is correct. We are…"

He turned and met Sonic's gaze. "—now friends."

Sonic turned back to Fotini, satisfied. "Does that answer your question?"

Fotini smiled, not at the camera, not at the audience, but at Metal himself. "I'd like to hear a little more from the robot himself. Why are you here, Metal?"

Metal stiffened. No one was here to save him. No one was here to explain him.

But...wasn't that the point?

"The doctor tried to destroy me. He said I was obsolete now that Sonic is no longer a hedgehog. But Sonic saved me. That is why I am here now."

Fotini smiled at him again then turned back to the camera. "Well now, it looks like we're running a little thin on time. Is there anything else you'd like to let our audiences know?"

Sonic paused to think.

"...Yeah, I think so."

He shifted for comfort, placing his hands on the cushions to adjust his position. One hand inadvertently rested atop Metal's hand.

He didn't move it.

"I just want everyone to know that it's still me under all this fur. I'm still Sonic, and I still want to help everyone. I know what I look like might throw people off, but I hope everyone's still willing to trust me. I don't want the difference between me saving someone and me losing someone to be looking like this."

Metal sat perfectly still. He was looking at Fontini. He was looking at the camera.

Slowly, Metal nodded. "Yes. And even if I was one of the doctor's robots before, I can stand by Sonic's words. I assure you that Sonic and...and myself, we are both here to help everyone."

"You heard it here, folks," Fotini said. "Beneath all that fur, Sonic is still the same hero we know and love. And that furry look suits him, don't you think?"

Fotini paused deliberately. She turned her attention back to Sonic. "How about that smile? Do us one last favor, Sonic. Flash that trademarked for the audience."

"W-what?" Sonic blinked, clearly unaware that he was unconsciously showing as little of his fangs as possible.

"Now, I don't know about you all, but I bet that smile is awfully cute once you get used to it." Fotini waved to the audience. "What do you think?"

The audience cheered.

Sonic's ears flattened, shy in front of the audience for the first time in his life.

He hesitated, glancing over at Metal, as if for support. Finally, he flashed a confident smile to Fotoni and the audience, showing the perfect amount of fang.

The crowd erupted into exuberant cheering, clapping filling the studio.

Metal cast Sonic a side glance then gave Sonic a small clap himself.

Fotini beamed. "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Sonic the Hedgehog's back in action."

The clapping continued as the curtain closed around them. Fotini held her hand up. "And—cut! That's a wrap."

Sonic didn't say anything, his face flushed unusually red. Metal had never seen Sonic so embarrassed before, especially over something so simple as people liking his smile.

He'd have to make a log of it.

Fotini stood up. She folded her hands above her head, stretching. "I'd say that went well, don't you think?"

"U-uh, yeah!" Sonic replied quickly. "Thanks for having us."

"Thank you for being on the show. The audience loved that."

An assistant came by and handed Fotini a stack of papers. Still standing, she began thumbing through them. "It looks like television viewership was pretty high too."

A bit of pride shone in Sonic's eyes. "Well, heh, they all wanted to know the full story, I guess."

Fotini gave them a somewhat goofy, yet still professional, grin. "That other station is ridiculous, you know? As if anyone could believe anything so farfetched."

She leaned down, meeting Metal at eye level. "And thank you for being on the program too."

Metal nodded quickly. He straightened his posture, looking as proud as he could. "Yes, well, it is the least I could do to correct these falsehoods."

Sonic smirked at Metal's pride. "Yeah, plus, it helps me with protecting everyone too."

Sonic went to turn but suddenly stiffened. His body seemed to act on its own again. He grabbed both Metal and Fotoni and brought them to the ground, as if shielding them with his body.

The wall behind them broke apart, bits of debris flying all over the place. A few hit Sonic, but he was unaffected.

The force of the impact threw Metal forward, but he was secure in Sonic's arms. Thus, he only lurched forward, overcome with a strange sense of vertigo.

Dust and shrapnel whirled around them, coughed up into a thick fog by the impact. The panicked screaming and shouting surrounded them, and Metal heard the stampeding of feet against linoleum as the audience fled.

As the dust started to settle, Metal turned his head and peaked over Sonic's shoulder. There was a familiar silhouette in the cloud.

Dr. Eggman.


	17. Chapter 17

Eggman loomed over Metal in that same way he had loomed over Metal for Metal's entire existence. It had always been this way. Metal had come online with Eggman looming over him. He had fought Sonic with Eggman looming over him. And now, he would probably cease to function with Eggman looming over him. In life and death, online and offline, Eggman was there. Eggman was everywhere.

Eggman was _here_.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." Eggman hovered over them in his Eggmobile, standing atop its thick carriage, pointing at Metal. He cast his gaze to the side, addressing Sonic, "Or maybe not the cat. You're a mutt now, not a rodent. Just a mutt and his toy."

Sonic stood in front of Metal protectively. " _You're_ the one who dragged himself in here, Egghead, so the only toy I see here is _you,_ " Sonic huffed. "Especially with how I'm gonna bat your robots around for what you did to me!"

Eggman laughed. It was a deep, cackling laugh that sent shivering, skipped clock cycles through Metal's circuits. It was also a familiar laugh. Metal remembered it well; it was the type of laugh Eggman let out before he was about to do something unmistakably cruel.

Then Eggman stopped laughing. Instead of silence, a deadly hum hung thickly across the air like fog.

Eggman held up his hand. Behind him, the sky was dark with the belligerent shadow of his robot swarm.

Eggman hummed. "Why do you think this is about _you_ , doggy boy?"

Sonic glared. "Because you've got two settings, Eggbreath; trying to eat your problems away and trying to kill me. You fail at both, by the way."

Sonic reached back, grabbing Metal's hand. "So what, you finally got a hobby then and came to brag? Is that it?"

Eggman growled. He stood up on the tips of his toes and grasped the window of the Eggmobile with one hand. "I thought you were supposed to be the hero Sonic, but you're not. That's why you've stolen something from me, and I'm here to take it back. So why don't we handle this like gentlemen?

"What? Your dignity?" Sonic asked casually, shrugging with his free hand. "Sorry, Eggy. I don't have it. Think that went a little before my time. Like, fifty years or so."

Eggman let out an incoherent, gargled scream, like a trash compactor filled with rocks. "Metal Sonic. It's mine. Give it back now, and no one gets hurt."

"First off, Metal isn't an it," Sonic retorted, ear twitching in annoyance. "Second, you gave him up. Pretty sure Mets might even still have a recording of you saying that."

Metal knew Sonic's reasoning wasn't valid. The existence of such a recording was irrelevant. No, the flaw in Sonic's logic was assuming the doctor could be reasoned with. That was simply untrue; all evidence showed that. The doctor did what he wanted. He screamed and he shouted and he took and he smashed.

Metal's power reserves sat at 57%. Not optimal but sufficient for the estimated duration of this fight. His motors on the other hand...17% function was not a high number.

Metal took half a step backward. He tried, and largely succeeded, not to let his voice waver. "Why should I return with you? You have no use for me now. You said this yourself."

"I don't need you," Eggman pulled away from the window, "I need your parts. Do you have any idea just how expensive you are? I'm not about to let a money sink like you just wander out the door and loiter about the streets when I could put your resources to use elsewhere,"

Sonic growled instinctively. "Mets isn't your property anymore. He's with me."

In a swift motion, Sonic lifted Metal protectively into his arms. "So you'll have to get through me first."

Sonic smirked. "And we both know how this usually goes."

Metal let out a quick beep. Why was he beeping? After all, there was a certain strategic advantage to Sonic holding him. They were less likely to be separated. They were less likely to-

To Metal's surprise, Eggman actually _laughed_. "You remember what I said, boy? No one had to get hurt."

This phrase...Metal executed a short query. The results were as he thought. Eggman only said that phrase when he had a hostage.

But there was no hostage in this situation.

So who…?

"You love that metallic sunk cost so much? Well, just remember. You had a choice."

Eggman pulled something out of his pocket: a small, steel rectangle.

It had buttons.

It had a single button.

Metal's optics widened.

"This," Eggman slammed the button with the side of his fist, "was your choice."

Something washed over Metal. He sensed it in the very core of his being. But what sensation was it? He had no words for it. Was a sensation but data made plain to the conscious mind? By that logic, Metal could indeed feel. He had tactile feedback. He had visual data. His mind, digital it may be, was trained on these sensations. He recognized them. He felt them. But consciousness took time. It took training. Sensations had no meaning until they were assigned a purpose. A role. An opinion. A subjectivity.

But this was no mere sensation. It was no mere data. It was a dynamic scream. It tore through his processors like an alternating current forcing its way down a direct line. There was something wrong about it, so profoundly, profoundly wrong. It was something that had to be avoided at all costs. He had to avoid this. He had to run. He had to flee. His survival-this sensation threatened his survival. He was going to die here. Metal was going to die here. This was it. He had no choice. He had to...he had to-

Metal screamed.

Sonic flinched, immediately trying to tend to Metal.

"S-sorry! Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Sonic's eyes grew wide with the realization in his words.

But did words really mean anything? That was a stupid question. Any question was a stupid question. There was no question. There was nothing. Sensation. There was only sensation. Wrong. Wrong sensation. No other data. What other data?

Data. He needed data. No-the current. Grounding. A ground. He needed-

Metal flailed, his arms and legs turning stiff and slack, stiff and slack. And there were no words. He only screamed.

Eggman waved the remote. "A marvel of engineering, isn't it? He didn't even know it himself."

Sonic glared at Eggman then turned his attention back to Metal. He knelt down and sat Metal on the floor, but still held Metal's hand.

"Mets, it's okay. I'm here. Talk to me." His voice tried to sound assuring, but his eyes were wide with a mixture of terror and concern.

"W-what happened?" Metal choked.

Sonic's face was grim. It was as if he knew what Metal was feeling; as if he knew it on a deep, primal level.

Sonic glared back at Eggman. "What'd you do, Egghead? You think this is gonna convince Metal to go to your side?"

"I don't need to convince a bucket of scrap of anything," Eggman growled. He dropped back into his seat and pulled his goggles over his eyes. "I'll take it back myself."

Sonic twitched again, this time unnaturally so. He shut his eyes, shaking his head and turning back to Metal.

Sonic didn't sound concerned or annoyed anymore. He sounded frustrated. He sounded angry. He clutched his head, his corners of his mouth twitching. He sounded almost… beastly.

His eyes opened back up.

"S-sonic…? I-it is...it is so horrible-" Metal managed to say that much. Sonic was so close to him that Metal could see the pearly white of Sonic's sclera. It was brighter even than the day sky behind him. That sky was dark from all Eggman's robots. But Sonic's eyes were...they were-

They were darkening. It started from the edge, like a dark fog inside of Sonic's eyes, and it was inward. Sonic's pupil, normally a verdant green, was pinkening. It was glowing too, just slightly. Not like the glow of Metal's optics though. It was a supernatural glow, unreal and yet too familiar.

"S-sonic-?" There was panic in Metal's voice now. "Sonic?!"

These eyes were the same eyes that Metal saw when he had first met Sonic in this nocturnal form. They were staring into him, just like they had before.

Sonic looked at Metal for a moment longer, then leaned down until he was eye level with Metal.

There was no violence. No swift movements to unnerve Metal. Instead, Sonic leaned in, lightly pressing his forehead against the side of Metal's head. He let out a small noise, as if...comforting Metal?

Comforting. It was comforting. Not in words, for there were none, but on a baser level, a more fundamental level, a level that could not be explained by words. And somewhere, in the depths of Metal's motherboard, the comfort meant enough. A small piece of the wrongness righted itself.

Metal let out a small beep.

"Robots, attack!"

Sonic's eyes shifted to Eggman's robots. He pulled away from Metal and stood up straight. His fangs and claws had sharpened and lengthened, this feral Sonic not showing any sign of nervousness or fear. His back was arched, his shoulders tense and fingers outstretched.

He glared down the robots, then hunched over on all fours, bracing himself against the ground as he let out a massive roar. The great soundwave flung dozens of Eggman's robots backward.

The feral Sonic's eyes turned into thinner slits. He growled then charged forward on the offensive.

The wrongness, the pain, made it hard to track the fight. But it was there, enough of a spectacle to break through in pieces, the drops of awareness splashing against him like waves breaking against rocks. There were screaming and clattering and the sounds of claw against steel. There was the light of the sky as it broke through in a patchy scatter, like the sunlight against the forest floor.

But above all that, there was Sonic. The way he moved was fast and precise. Maybe not as fast as he used to be, but it was still certainly faster than any normal animal. His claws were like diamond, and they shredded the hulls of Eggman's robots as if they were paper. He was unrelenting in both is stamina and endurance. And as wave after wave of the robots crashed against him, he stood prouder than any cliffside.

Then the noise started to break. It was gradual at first, that same gradual decay of an engine slowly dying. The crashes were more distant, the shattering less severe.

Until finally there was silence, nothing more to hear but the lapping of the slow ocean waves outside.

Footsteps dropped into the silence. A clanging noise followed; a few parts from the robots dropped in front of Metal.

Sonic was in front of Metal, tilting his head to the side and standing at the opposite of the parts.

Awareness was a resource, as was electricity. The terrible pain in his circuits, like hot, molten iron, made it hard to focus. But Metal tried his best, and for a brief moment, he could see the world in front of him.

Eggman was gone. Always the coward, the doctor had probably fled as soon as the battle had turned. His robots were gone too. The television studio, what was left of it anyway, had long ago been evacuated.

So there was only Sonic. There were only his eyes. Those dark, dark eyes.

"S-sonic?"

Sonic let out a gruff noise, pointing his head down towards the parts. He even nudged them towards Metal.

A thin layer of dust covered Metal's frame, likely drywall dust, given the destruction of the building. It coated the floor too. It was everywhere except the perfect footsteps Sonic had left behind him.

The pain made it hard to move, but Metal picked up the part. It was a ball bearing inside a fine, iron circle. He looked back at Sonic. "F-for me?"

Sonic nodded.

"B-but...but why?" Metal cast his glance to the corpses of Eggman's robots laying in scattered heaps. He ran his thumb across the ball bear, cleaning away of some the dust. Then a new wave of pain hit him, and he shuddered.

Sonic frowned, hunching over on all fours. He stared at the parts, then to Metal.

Wandering over to Metal's side, Sonic leaned close and actually _licked_ Metal's cheek.

Metal's fingers tightened against the ball bearing. His optics widened. His chest felt warm. "S-sonic-?"

Sonic looked over Metal's body, particularly a small tear in Metal's side where a part had been missing. He nudged it with his muzzle, letting out a small whine.

Metal eased his grip on the ball bearing. Despite the darkness in Sonic's eyes, he wasn't attacking Metal at all. He was-

"Oooh," Metal let out a soft beep followed by another shudder. The pain still hurt. "Y-you think...you think the ball bearing goes there?"

Sonic stared up at him. His Dark Gaia energy was still swirling around him, as Metal remembered, but the pattern was calm rather than erratic.

Sonic tilted his head toward the rest of the parts, looking concerned.

"Y-you're trying to fix me," Metal muttered. He shook his head. A small beep, partly amusedly, partly pained, escaped from him. He looked back up to Sonic. "This will not work though. We need Tails."

Sonic squinted, as if unsure of what Metal meant. He looked around, like the surroundings were unfamiliar to him, then went closer to Metal, his expression worried.

He plopped down next to Metal, one arm over Metal's lap and his face nuzzling Metal's chest. The energy around him continued to seep out of him, but this time extended further outward.

The energy was coming closer to Metal. It was going to do something to him. It was going to destroy him. It was going to-

Metal's optics flickered. The pain...it was still there, but it was less, more manageable.

Metal looked down at his hand. The energy was swirling around it, particularly concentrated near where Metal had been damaged.

Metal had to tilt his head back. The fur from the top of Sonic's head was so thick, and it nearly crowded out his entire vision. "S-sonic?"

Sonic met Metal's gaze. His eyes were still pink, but they were focused on Metal, _solely_ on Metal.

Metal held the gaze. For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of Sonic's breath.

Then Metal remembered Sonic's arm. It was still on his lap. And in his feral form, Sonic's arms were even stronger. Sonic was quite possibly the strongest living being who had ever existed on this planet.

Then another wave of pain crashed over Metal. His head felt like it was about to split in two. Metal threw his hands over the back of his head. "H-hurts-"

Sonic let out a sad whine. He pressed his face against the side of Metal's head, nuzzling Metal as the aura of energy continued spilling over him. The pain lessened again.

The bottom of his optical screen felt oddly warm. Awkwardly, he held his hand out and gently padded the back of Sonic's head. "I-it feels a little better."

Sonic's quills drooped in response to the touch. He nuzzled Metal's again, a quiet rumbling noise coming from his throat.

What was Metal to do? So many questions, so little data. Sonic was in his dangerous form. His feral form. He had those eyes, that aura, so reminiscent of Dark Gaia itself.

And yet danger was a relative term. Certainly Sonic was dangerous to those Eggman robots. But to Metal? Whatever Sonic was doing now, it certainly was not malice.

So what was it?

"Sonic? You cannot speak, but you can understand me, yes?"

Sonic growled softly in response, staring back at him. His eyes, though piercing, were not in an intrusive way. Rather, it was as if they were offering Metal to intrude instead.

"Fascinating. You can understand but...there is something different about it. Like before, when I did this-" Metal worked his fingers just slightly into Sonic's fur, just enough to let Sonic's coarse overcoat brush over the back of his fingertips.

Sonic purred, closing his eyes as he leaned into Metal's hand. The aura surrounding him extended and swirled around Metal's hand in response.

"But if you cannot speak," Metal brought his other hand up, cupping the side of Sonic's cheek where Sonic's fur transition to the skin of his muzzle, "what does this mean?"

Sonic didn't respond, not seeming to comprehend such a question. He just smiled, pressing his face against Metal's and nuzzling him.

Sonic's bulk was substantial, and Metal had to lean back lest Sonic's weight overwhelm him. Still, with Sonic this close, his aura was even closer. It swirled around him, little eddies of energy, and where ever it touched him, the pain seemed to melt away.

Tentatively, he stroked the side of Sonic's muzzle with his thumb. "This...is what you want?"

Sonic continued to purr, but his smile faded. He looked down to one of the dents in Metal's armor then pressed his face against it instead.

That almost knocked Metal over, and he had to pull his hand away from Sonic's cheek to support himself. Still, with the touch of Sonic's face, the aura-and its pain relief-followed.

"Ah, no, I see. You wish for me to be fixed. That is it. That is why you gave me the part. I see."

It was almost bizarre. Sonic, in this state, was oblivious yet aware. Intelligent, but with only a certain sense of comprehension. He was aggressive with Eggman's robots, but not with Metal, who used to be one.

Sonic curled up somewhat against Metal, closing his eyes peacefully with his head on Metal's lap. His breathing was soft and steady.

One hand on the ground, Metal rested his other atop Sonic's head, watching as Sonic's chest rose and fell just slightly with each breath.

Sonic's unbelievable strength. His oblivious intelligence. It was as if his feral form channeled something else about him, allowed something that was already inside of Sonic to come out.

And his affection. That was what it was. Sonic was being affectionate. He was being affectionate toward Metal. No one had ever been affectionate toward Metal before. And yet Sonic was. He was doing it now, with his head on Metal's lap. It could mean only one thing.

Sonic _cared_ about him.

A shuffling noise emanated from the collapsed hallway. Metal stiffened. The sound grew.

Fotini stumbled out. Her neat hair was disheveled, her jacket torn, and a thin layer of dust coated her forehead. She leaned against the fall, coughing slightly. "Sonic? You in here? Everything alright?"

Suddenly Sonic stirred on Metal's lap, seeming unnerved.

"H-huh? Wha-"

Sonic's eyes had become their normal hue and widened upon seeing how close to Metal he was. He stood up with a start, jerking his head over to Fotini.

"Y-yeah! We're fine! We..." He trailed off, looking around to see the scattered parts of various robots. He paused, seeming deep in thought, then knelt back down to Metal, looking horrified. "Mets! Did I change again? Did I hurt you?"

Sonic's aura evaporated like mist in the sun. The pain hit Metal like a truck, and he clutched his chest, leaning over. "N-no-"

"No?" Sonic echoed. In an instant, his hand was at Metal's back and his other was holding Metal's hand. "Are you sure? Last time, I almost..."

Metal looked up. Even with the pain coursing through his system, he could see Sonic's gaze clearly. It was different now. Clearer somehow. And yet, there was a familiarity to it.

Metal shook his head. "It was the doctor. He did this to me. It was not you."

Sonic sighed, sounding forlorn. He then stood up, picking Metal up in one arm and continuing to hold his hand.

"I'll take you back to Tails." He turned to Fotini. "And I'll pay for what Eggman did. Is the Tornado still intact outside?"

Fotini simply looked at them for a moment. Then she sighed, sleeking her hair back with her palm. "He really did a number to this place, didn't he? The whole studio. I'm never gonna hear the end of this one." She shook her head. "But yeah, I think your plane's alright. It was parked far enough."

"Thanks." Sonic hesitated, knowing that Metal was his top priority. Metal would be in pain longer if he waited. "I'm really sorry. Eggman came here because of me. I swear, I'll pay for everything."

"Not your fault." Fotini shrugged, although with a small grin. "Who knows? Maybe the studio will think this good publicity. Our very own Eggman attack!"

Sonic managed a grin in return, but it faded as he looked back at Metal. "So...I didn't do anything else aside from smashing Eggman's bots, did I?"

"You mean what you did excluding the battle?" There were certainly some things. There was the way Sonic looked at him. There was the way Sonic held him, nuzzled him. And there was the way Metal had-

Metal's optical screen grew just slightly flushed. "Ah, no. I mean, that is not to say there was nothing but-but it is not important."

He winced. "And I do wish to see Tails soon. The pain-"

"Don't worry. I'll take you right now," Sonic promised, squeezing Metal's hand gently.

He gave a small nod to Fotini then began to race back to where the Tornado was.

For the Tornado would take them back, back to Tails, back to privacy. And after Metal was bolted together again, and Sonic had rested, Metal would have to explain.

He still needed to figure that part out.


	18. Chapter 18

The meeting in Tails' lab was more a debriefing than a reunion. It was the vibe in the room that did it. Reunions were things of comradery; debriefings were things of business. And judging by the way Tails' brow furrowed and the way Sonic's posture stood stiff, the tone here suggested nothing less than the kind of tension one might find in the executive boardroom of a hostile takeover.

Metal sat on the examination table because sitting was the only thing Metal could do. Even if he was far from mortally injured-Sonic really had done an excellent job of protecting him-the slightest movement sent bolts of sharp, stabbing pain throughout his delicate circuits. He was still getting used to this sensation called pain, and every moment felt more tortuous than even meeting with Eggman.

Tails leaned forward, one hand on Metal's shoulder. "Can you move your head for me?"

Metal was capable of moving his head.

He didn't want to move his head.

He had to move his head.

Maybe it would help if Metal tried to distract himself, so he focused on Sonic instead. Sonic was injured too. Not as badly as Metal of course but Sonic had countless nicks and bruises from his sustained skirmishes, and he carried on his darkened face a level of physical and mental exhaustion Metal could only imagine. And yet Sonic still stood with his characteristic strength and pride. If Sonic could act with that kind of dignity, couldn't Metal do it too?

Metal bowed his head. Aching pain shot up his neck, like a million arrows fired into the delicate seams of his chassis. He let out a single, harsh beep, quivering as he tried to hold his posture.

Sonic met Metal's gaze with a small smile of reassurance.

Metal's optics flickered. Another wave of pain shot up his neck. He balled his fists, letting out a quiet beep.

"I-it hurts-"

Sonic's smile vanished immediately. He walked up to Metal, offering his hand to hold. "Still bad?"

Metal took Sonic's hand without a second thought, gripping it firmly to ease the pain. "A-affirmative."

Sonic frowned, stroking the back of Metal's hand with his thumb. "We'll figure this out, okay? We'll get you fixed."

Metal couldn't move, and so he responded by letting his optics flicker again. What that would convey to Sonic, Metal didn't know. Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly convey the terrible pain, both the physical pain of his injuries and the emotional pain of Metal's complete inability to keep his composure.

Tails glanced up at the two then back down at Metal's chest.

After a moment, he spoke up. "...I saw that interview."

Sonic turned. "The one we were just in?"

"Yeah." Tails seemed distracted as he said it, as if he were thinking about it or focusing on Metal's injuries.

"Y-you saw-?" Metal lifted up his head. "How much did you see?"

"The whole thing," Tails replied simply. He met Metal's gaze. "You did well though. I was surprised."

Sonic chuckled. "I told you that I trusted him, didn't I?"

Tails rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yes, you did."

Metal supposed that was something. A job well done. Mission accomplished.

He tapped his fingers together nervously. "And, ah...did you see after-? When the doctor…?"

"The interview was over by then." Tails squinted. "Why? Did something happen that you two didn't already tell me?"

Sonic scratched his cheek in thought. "I don't think so?"

"Ah-" Metal looked at Tails. He looked at Sonic. He looked at Tails again. He studied his hands. "Well, no. Nothing of note, I mean. And further, what have you diagnosed of my condition?"

Tails hummed a low tone, suddenly looking skeptical and averting his gaze to one of the gashes in Metal's armor. "Well, from what I can gather, it seems like Eggman programmed an extra feature into your sensory feedback processing system. That kind of feature would be pointless on any standard robot, but I imagine it's because you've betrayed him before.

"Essentially, instead of just processing standard sensory data, it also works as a negative feedback system. So any time you lose a part or sustain an injury, it responds by giving you the closest possible sensation of pain you can experience as a robot. In essence, instead of just processing sensory data, Eggman gave you an entirely artificial nervous system."

Metal couldn't decide if he was horrified or impressed. Horrified, because this proved Dr. Eggman really did have those sadistic tendencies. Impressed, because giving a robot the full, subjective experience of touch and pain was no small technical marvel.

In the end, he decided to settle on somewhere between the two as turning his head to get a better look at Tails caused another wave of pain to propagate through his body. "S-so it appears the doctor was saving this to keep me under his command."

Sonic stopped stroking Metal's hand, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "I can't believe Eggman would do something like that. Mets doesn't deserve this."

Tails interjected, now addressing Metal, "Well there is also good news. I could disable that particular subroutine, you know. You'd still have the tactile data, but without the subroutine, there wouldn't be a physical experience of pain." He frowned. "Although that means that you would lose the ability to feel completely. You'd only have data on what you come into contact with, but you wouldn't actually experience the sense of touching itself."

Metal jerked upright, motors hissing with a faint screech. "You mean to imply that I would lose my ability to subjectively feel any physical sensations, both pain and otherwise?"

"Yes," Tails replied, trying to remain impassive. "Are physical sensations important to you?"

Were physical sensations important to Metal? That was such a philosophical gridlock that Metal didn't even know where to start. For what was the difference between mere data and the subjective experience of that data? It wasn't like Metal needed a sense of touch to move about. His systems could handle that task without any awareness of his own part. Even an Eggpawn could hobble down the hallway. Locomotion could be handled without a witness. He didn't need to feel.

He didn't need to feel.

"I wish to answer this query at a later time."

"Huh?" Tails blinked, surprised at how utterly stiff Metal's tone was.

Metal gave Tails a small nod. "Affirmative. I require cycles to readjust my models to compute an optimal answer to your query. So I will give my answer to you at a later time."

Sonic stared at Metal in understanding. "Anything I can do to help?"

Sonic's gaze was so earnest and concerned that Metal decided to look out the window instead. It was overcast outside, and the clouds hovered above with a vague sort of darkness. "No. Your kindness is admirable but there is nothing you may do. I need but time to think."

"Oh," Sonic muttered.

Tails paused, staring at Metal with a firm gaze. He hummed in thought, still looking skeptical. "So, did whatever happened out there start once Sonic became feral?"

All Tails had to do was say it, and the memories flooded Metal's systems. Sonic was there. Sonic was holding him. Sonic was so, so close to him.

Metal still hadn't even told Sonic about it. Why hadn't he? Sonic maybe, hopefully, didn't remember what had happened. So maybe there was a chance Metal alone had the knowledge of what had happened, and he had been keeping it all to himself. If he told Sonic, how would Sonic react? Would things become awkward between them?

And why did Metal suddenly care so much about this?

But there was no real way out of this dilemma. Metal was a terrible liar, and Tails already didn't trust him.

He had only one choice.

"Ah, about that-" Metal gave Sonic such an ashamed look that it would have made even an Eggpawn feel bad. "Sonic, can I, ah...ask a favor of you? Is there any way you could possibly leave for a moment?"

Sonic straightened immediately. "Uh-yeah! Would that help?"

"Yes! Yes…I mean, yes. Yes, that would be of assistance."

Sonic nodded, eager to help or give Metal whatever time he needed. He turned away, only glancing back at Metal once before leaving the room.

Tails hummed with interest, tapping his fingers on the table. "So it's something you don't want Sonic hearing then?"

"Tails, can I ask you a question?" Metal looked out the window again. The clouds were a little bit darker now as if they were threatening to start leaking cold rain droplets. "You have been around Sonic in his feral state, correct? Did you ever find that he...well, did he ever, ah-do anything specific to you?"

"He's never been around me when he's been feral. I have data, but that's about it."

Tails paused. "There was a time where he was close, but that was it." He leaned forward, brow raised. "But what do you mean by 'specific' anyway?"

Metal shrugged so casually that it was too casual and went back around to being profoundly suspicious. "Just the...what is the term? Oh yes, just the usual. Hugging, trying to repair your damaged components. The usual sort of thing."

Tails was silent at first, staring blankly at Metal. He shook his head. "Wait-hugging? Is that what you said?"

Maybe the window would save him after all. Maybe it would start raining, and Tails would forget this conversation, and then everything would go back to normal.

That wasn't going to happen.

"Ah, yes. Has Sonic in his feral state ever hugged you?"

"No? I just told you that-" Tails paused. "Wait, so Sonic _hugged you_ while he was feral?"

Metal pressed his fingers into his own palm and stared at the ceiling. "More or less, yes. Is this behavior typical?"

"I-" Tails rubbed a temple. "I don't know? I didn't know Sonic could act that way while feral. I had always thought that form was wholly violent."

Tails ears perked. "But then...this could work! That could mean that Sonic's feral state might act based on Sonic's personality instead!"

"Based on Sonic's personality? You mean to imply-" Metal left the rest unsaid. If the feral form acted in accordance with Sonic's values, that meant-

That meant that Sonic had _wanted_ to hug Metal.

Tails wasn't paying attention to Metal's thought processes, already turned away and rambling. "This could be a huge relief for Sonic! If he knew that he could never actually be a danger to others..."

Metal said, "Well, he was most certainly a danger to the doctor's other robots. He wholly destroyed those. But I can confirm he was most certainly not the least hostile toward myself."

"Ah!" Tails turned, as if on some sort of roll. "But he _did_ attack you back when you were still Eggman's robot, right?"

Metal shuddered. He remembered that all too well. "He did."

Tails hesitated, seeing the sudden change in Metal's posture. "Ah, sorry-"

He rubbed the back of his head. "But, point being, he attacked you back then because you were a threat. But he likes you now, so the only explanation is that his feral state knew you were okay."

"I suppose that is a working hypothesis." Metal drummed his fingers against the table. Sonic _liked_ him now? "At the very least, it would indeed ease his concerns about his permanent nocturnal state."

"Yeah..." Tails walked around the room, rubbing his chin. "But would that be enough proof to convince him?"

More often than not, in the course of solving problems, Metal sometimes found himself in a kind of local minima where, no matter what he did, every option was unappealing. For example, the logical answer to Tails query would be to simply tell Sonic. That would be easy enough, and then they would have their answer.

On the other hand, that also involved telling Sonic.

"Ah well, we could, I suppose, acquire footage for this purpose? If Sonic sees himself on camera, he would know what his feral state was doing." Metal had the faintest sliver of anxiety. He added, "Does Sonic always forget when he is in his feral form?"

"Not always," Tails replied, still mulling over Metal's suggestion. "He remembers it if it's at night."

Now that was a relief. The interview had been during the day. Sonic definitely wouldn't remember what had happened.

Tails paused then straightened, ears perking. "Actually, that's a great idea! If he goes feral at night, we won't need to record him because he'd just remember himself."

"So you propose we induce this feral form at night? Then, when Sonic does not harm anyone, he would remember and feel less afraid of himself?"

Tails nodded. "And if he needs someone other than just you for proof, then you can go to Holoska." He scratched his head, trying to remember specific details. "Sonic used to tell me about this guy who was so forgetful and always got his name wrong, so Sonic acting unusual wouldn't even be something he'd remember."

"Yes...yes, I see this as a plausible option. Sonic could interact with this man and, after nothing bad happens, Sonic would remember the whole thing, and the old man would not care."

"So that'll work?" Tails asked, wanting feedback.

It was an optimal solution. Sonic would be reassured that he poses no threat in his feral form, and Metal would never have to explain yesterday. It could be like it never even happened. That was what Metal wanted, right? For it to be like it had never happened?

Would Sonic ever hug him again?

"But..." Tails hesitated, chewing at his bottom lip as he stared at the floor. "How are we going to get Sonic into his feral form exactly? We probably can't even tell him that's what we're doing if we want it to work."

Truth be told, Metal was profoundly curious about Sonic's feral form. What triggered it? How did it work? And that aura, that energy signature-what _was_ that? How had it soothed his pain? That shouldn't have even been possible.

"This alternate form of Sonic's...I am assuming you have more data on it? If so, may I see it?"

Tails glanced over at his computer. "Hm...I guess I could share it with you. I mean-"

His brows furrowed as if he didn't want to admit something. He walked over to his computer then tapped away until a file opened. "After seeing everything you've been doing for Sonic, I figured we can at least be friends, right?"

Metal sat upright. "Truly? You consider us friends? You trust me?"

"I know I didn't at first," Tails said. "I mean, you weren't worthy of trust at first. You tried to kill Sonic, but..."

His tails twitched. "Sonic improved a lot by being with you, and after that whole thing with Eggman, you haven't done anything to hurt him. So yeah, I trust you."

He stepped aside so Metal could see the screen, although somewhat sheepishly. "And I want to be friends. Any friend of Sonic's is a friend of mine."

"I understand and accept this alliance." Metal shook his head. Tails was his friend! He had a friend! "Anyway, I will examine this data now. We may be able to glean a solution from it."

Metal inched over to give himself a clearer view. Countless data streamed across the screen, and he studied them closely. "What a fascinating pattern. Have you tried mapping it to a distribution?"

Tails nodded. "I have. Back when I was recording Sonic's data more directly," he stopped briefly to pull up the graph in question, "I wanted to study it more closely.

"Currently, I have a hypothesis that, while Sonic has only gone into his feral state under stress, it's possible to also cause it if he was made to be extremely relaxed."

Tails pulled up another graph, littered with notes and extra lines. "So you see here, it looks to be similar to a bimodal distribution. That implies that, theoretically, Sonic's mental state remains in his control whenever his brain waves stay higher than this Dark Gaia energy baseline. When he's under stress, the levels start to spike, and he falls beneath the peak. However, you see the second peak? I think that if we could put him in an extremely relaxed state, he'd reach below that naturally without needing to expose him to stressful situations."

Now this was a language Metal spoke: data. Objective, truthful, wonderful data. He committed every piece of it to memory. "It is difficult to say for certain if that would work, but there is evidence for that claim. I believe your hypothesis to be worth a test at the very least."

Tails smiled knowingly; the closest thing to Sonic's trademark smirk that he had. "And if all of your other relaxation strategies don't work, you could always start hugging him."

Metal immediately froze, back upright, gaze locked onto the wall behind Tails. The physical warmth and sensation of Sonic's hug rushed back into his mind. It was the first time he had felt anything like it. "That should not be necessary, I mean, I am most confident we can find adequate resources to thoroughly test this hypothesis. And anyway, hugs are not even scientifically quantifiable, so if we wish to keep this from drifting out of the realm of science and into the realm of speculation, then this solution should not be required."

And anyway, Metal was going to get his sense of touch removed anyway, wasn't he? That would stop the pain, and it would also stop any non-scientific nonsense from rearing its ugly head all over his beautiful data distributions.

Tails chuckled. "Right." He turned back to his data in thought. "Anyway, is that it? Do you need any more data?"

Metal dug his fingertips into the workbench. "No. That should be sufficient for my needs. I believe we can allow Sonic back into the room now. That is all I had to tell you."

Tails nodded then moved away from the computer. "Sonic! You can come back in now!"

A few seconds later, Sonic stepped back in, smiling at the two with only a hint of concern. "Is everything okay?"

Tails nodded exceedingly casually. "Yes. In terms of Metal, I still need time to build the complex self-maintenance part that got destroyed; that's why he keeps falling apart. He'll still have to come back for basic repairs every now and then, but aside from that, he's functioning well enough."

Sonic glanced over at Metal, looking strangely thoughtful, then nodded. "And your nervous-thing, Mets?"

Metal managed to channel the deep, swirling conflict inside of himself into a completely flat, stoic expression. "It is acceptable."

Sonic smiled. He walked forward, slightly quicker than usual, then placed his hands gently on Metal's shoulders.

"So you're not in as much pain anymore? You're okay?"

Metal nodded.

Sonic's shoulders relaxed. He beamed a great, exuberant smile, and pulled Metal into a hug.

Metal let out a soft, muffled beep that was utterly drowned out by the swaths of fur that had come to engulf him. Sonic's fur was even thicker than Metal remembered, like a great, warm blanket pulled taut over the precisely formed muscles of Sonic's chest. In this position, with Sonic's great arms wrapped protectively around him, Metal could feel everything. The sensations seemed to well in his mind, pushing out the cold, rational thoughts and replacing them with fur, with warmth, with safety.

"I'm glad," Sonic murmured softly, pulling back from the hug.

"That reminds me," Tails said. "What do you want to do about your artificial nervous system?"

Tails' voice returned a sense of reality to the room.

"You mean my sensation of touch?" Metal ran his fingers over the workbench, admiring the subtleties of it. There was a history in that touch, a narrative. Where the workbench was smooth, Metal could imagine Tails setting parts of his plane there over and over again until the wood was worn with use.

If he lost his sense of touch, he would never experience that again. He would never experience that and-

A slight breeze wafted through the room, ruffling Sonic's thick fur just slightly.

"As long as I sustain no further damage, there is no need to fear for pain."

"So you're not going through with it?" Tails asked.

Metal shook his head. "To lose the subjective experience of touch...it would be too much."

He looked up, making eye contact with Tails and then with Sonic. "I feel I need this sense. The world is a large place, and parts of it are very strange. It is hard to navigate it without the doctor's orders. But this ability to feel...it is something that sets me apart from other machines. It would be foolish of me to throw that away."

Metal could make plans; he could revise plans; he could execute plans. But there were some things he could not plan for, and Sonic's abrupt hug was one of them. In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. But he hadn't, and the soft beep he had let out announced as much to the entire room. At least it had largely been muffled by Sonic's fur. Hopefully, anyway.

In Metal's defense, he did his best at least to return the hug with dignity. That was what friends did, right? They hugged each other. He and Sonic were friends. He and Tails were friends. It was the same thing, right?

Wasn't it?


	19. Chapter 19

Holoska stood in stark, frozen contrast to the rest of the world. Layers upon layers of fresh snow laid in thick, white sheets across the ground, and from Sonic's view above in the Tornado, it practically sparkled from the sunlight.

Sonic hummed in thought, lounging back in his seat as best he could given how little room he had. "Not that I mind the view or the people, but why'd you wanna come here, Mets?"

Metal pressed his finger into the back of Sonic's seat. "Well, the doctor never brought me here, you see. Holoska is just too far from his purview, and there was never any mission-critical reason for us to come here. And you know, the doctor never does veer from his missions. Thus, it is one of the few places I have never truly seen."

It wasn't technically a lie.

"Ah. Makes sense," Sonic said.

Sonic began to land the plane, choosing a careful route so as not to land it in the village. After they had touched down, he shut the plane off then got out of his seat, hopping down to the cold snow below.

"Will you be okay on the way down? The snow's not too stable," he warned Metal. He then held his arms out, smiling innocently. "Want me to catch you?"

Metal looked down at the snow. It did, in fact, seem decidedly unstable. Metal knew that much from his climatology databases. Despite the cold, Holoska was in fact technically a desert. It had to do with the amount of precipitation it got. Less fresh snowfall, more wind. So the white powder below him was probably icy.

Definitely unstable.

"I will exit the vehicle myself. Please be aware of possible required safety maneuvers," Metal said.

Metal stood up. He placed his feet against the side.

He jumped.

Sonic moved in sync with Metal, catching him in both arms expertly.

"Better to be safe then, right?" He winked. "Or maybe I just wanted you in my arms that badly."

The only problem with landing in Sonic's arms was that Metal sunk into Sonic's fur arguably more than he would have sank into the snow.

"Yes, it is always better to be safe," Metal said very quickly. He then slid out of Sonic's arms and landed on the snow. He casually brushed the snow off his shoulder with the back of his fingers. "So, where do the local residents reside?"

"Down here." Sonic gestured for Metal to follow. He began hiking down a large slope, which later slid easily into Holoska's village.

When Metal first saw the village, his first impression was to question if it wasn't a village as much as it was a survival camp. There were so few structures, and none of them looked terribly permanent. Where was the infrastructure? Where were the tarmac-sleek roads and the shiny, glistening buildings? There was none of that here.

But there were people.

Sonic seemed enthusiastic, waving a hand. "Jari-Thure! Sarianna! Marketa! Hey!"

A man, woman, and child turned to him, waving back.

Marketa greeted politely, "Hi, Sonic!"

Ursule, who seemed to have a little shop set up, waved as well. "Good afternoon."

There was a man near her, looking roughly the same age. He pointed at Sonic, mouth agape.

"Oh! It's...it's..."

Sonic snorted. "You can do it, Jari-Pekka."

The old man snapped his fingers as if having an epiphany. " _Metonic!_ "

Sonic rolled his eyes, smiling. "Maybe next time."

The man slumped.

Metal trailed behind Sonic. He gave a small wave to each person as they passed. "Impressive. You truly do know everyone here."

Sonic flashed Metal a proud grin. "I know everyone _everywhere!_ "

And the most ridiculous part was Metal believed him. Sonic really did seem to know absolutely everyone across the entire planet.

But Sonic still didn't know what had happened after the interview.

Metal shook his head. There was no use dwelling on that now. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Ah, so, Sonic," Metal started, "are you aware of any local festivities? What is done for 'fun' around here, as it were?"

Sonic placed a hand to his muzzle, thinking.

"Well, snowball fights...obviously." He chuckled. "The people here also go sled-riding but—"

He squinted as if recalling something unpleasant. "I don't know if they cleared the spikes off those ice slopes."

Metal simply gaped at Sonic for a moment, then he shuddered at the thought. "They go ice sled-riding over spikes of ice? What kind of uncivilized place is this?"

Sonic shrugged. "It might've been Egghead's robots that caused it back then."

He crouched down then began to gather snow in his hands, bunching it up as best as he could. Sonic wore the data-gathering watch on his wrist—Metal had been subtly insistent he wore it today—and it was thankfully not susceptible to moisture damage from the snow.

"What are you doing?" Metal cocked his head, watching Sonic for a moment. When there was no immediate answer, Metal kneeled down himself and began to poke the snow with one finger. "Are we investigating the historic carbon layer levels bound in the ice?"

Marketa gasped in the distance. "Sonic!"

Sonic glanced up. Marketa was pointing at her parents. He then smirked and split the ball of snow in two.

The parents barely had time to react before a snowball to their chests knocked them over. They blinked, winded at first, then laughed, Sarianna much louder than Jari-Thure.

Metal bolted upright, revving his engine. "Are we under assault? Sonic, I will cover you. You take the low ground and—"

He paused, his engine dying. His optics grew wide. "...Oh. This is training?"

"Easy, Mets." Sonic smiled warmly. "It's just a snowball fight. We're having fun."

He bunched up another ball, this one larger than the last, but rolled it to Marketa instead of throwing it. "Marketa! Back me up!"

Marketa grinned, lifting the snowball with a bit of effort. She took it to her parents, who were just getting up, then threw it with what little force she had. The snowball fell to pieces on both of them, but they played along as if they'd be struck severely.

Tentatively, Metal grabbed his own ball of snow. He then stood upright, holding it like an egg. It felt strange and sticky and vaguely unpleasant between his fingers.

Sonic glanced over. "You on our team, Mets?"

"Ah." Metal stepped over to Sonic. He hesitated then lifted Sonic's hand into his own and dropped the snowball into Sonic's palm. "...Yes?"

Sonic stared at the snowball then beamed at Metal. "Cool. They can't beat us with you here."

Metal would remember Sonic's face for the rest of the fight. Although perhaps, he now thought to consider, that "fight" was a wholly inaccurate term. The activity was less a fight and more a bizarre field day exercise. And when it was all over, he still didn't know who won because it turned out no one had been keeping score.

He considered that one for a while, and it wasn't until they were all seated around the firepit with the sun inching over the horizon like a runny egg yolk that Metal had a realization.

The lack of a purpose had been the activity's purpose. It was specifically because it was nothing that everyone joined in the fight. It did not matter if their aim was poor or the rules vague or the team unbalanced. The game simply occurred by itself; it occurred in that sort of undefined, knowable fog of war that the rest of life occurred in.

And now, as Metal sat next to Sonic and held his arms out toward the fire, he found himself slightly unnerved.

And he was still no close to triggering Sonic's altered state.

"You have remarkable endurance," Metal said to Sonic. "During that entire engagement, you did not so much as even begin to breath harder."

Sonic raised an arm, flexing his muscles. "Arm stuff is no big deal when I'm like this. I only get worn out when I try to run."

"I see," Metal said. He went to turn back to the fire, but his gaze lingered on Sonic for just a moment longer. He was no closer really to triggering Sonic's feral form, and he still had precious few leads. "But I suppose your hedgehog form had endurance as well."

"Well, yeah," Sonic said rather smugly, tilting his head back.

Jari-Thure and Sarianna were just getting up, stepping away from the fire.

"Marketa," Sarianna called. "Are you done?"

Marketa glanced up at her parents from the piece of recently cooked, bone-in meat in her hands. "Oh! Hold on."

She chewed at the last few remaining pieces then got up and began to follow her parents. She stopped, glancing down at the bone still in her hand, then turned.

"Hey, Sonic! Can you take care of this for me?" she asked.

Sonic gave her a polite nod, raising a hand to tell her to throw it at him. Marketa reeled her arm back then tossed it up into the air.

Sonic's hand was still up, but he didn't use his hands to catch it. Instead, he caught it with his mouth.

A moment passed. Sonic glanced down at the bone with an embarrassed blush spreading across his face.

Marketa giggled then went after her parents.

Metal didn't say anything either, but he did look at Sonic with fascination. It took considerable dexterity to catch such an object in one's mouth, and it was a feat that only an animal was usually capable of. So did this mean…

Sonic's nocturnal form took on animalistic traits?

The sun crept further behind the horizon, invisible now except for the faintest trait of confused sky behind the ridges of ice.

Nightfall had finally come.

The fire seemed dimmer somehow. Metal inched closer to it.

Sonic removed the bone from his mouth, swallowing sheepishly. He threw it into the fire, looking away.

"Ah—heh, sorry about that," Sonic said. "I just kind of...acted."

"Do not apologize for me. I thought your catch was precise."

Metal glanced around the fire. Nearly everyone seemed to have left. There was only the forgetful one; Jari-Pekka was his name.

And there was...someone else? It was hard to see, but Metal thought he could make out a cloaked figure in the distance.

Metal set his hand on Sonic's forearm. "Sonic? Do you see that?"

Sonic glanced down at Metal's hand on his arm then over to the cloaked figure. He smiled. "Oh, that's Wentos and Chao. Wentos travels and sells stuff that no one else does."

That was a fortunate turn of events. With someone else to talk to, there was less danger of Sonic suggesting they leave. And if this mysterious man was indeed a merchant, perhaps he would sell something to relax Sonic.

Metal pulled his hand back quickly. "Perhaps we should speak with him? I am curious of his wares."

"Really?" Sonic seemed surprised that Metal wanted to be social. But he stood up anyway and walked over to the strange man. "Hey, Wentos! Chao!"

The puppet on Wentos' hand moved. "Hey! It's-a Sonic and a friend! How-a you doing, eh?"

Sonic chuckled. "I'm fine. You?"

"Business is-a great! Thanks-a for asking!"

Metal stared blankly at the puppet for a moment then turned back to Wentos. "I wish to inquire into your available wares for purchase."

"Ah, we have-a anything you'd-a need!"

Wentos had many goods, including, much to Metal's surprise, food: a hero sandwich, chocolate, and a Chao chugger.

"See anything you-a like?" The puppet bobbed happily.

Metal took half a step backward. He stared at the puppet again then back to Wentos then back to the puppet.

He bumped Sonic with his elbow. He whispered, "Why does this man not speak directly?"

"Wentos is shy," Sonic whispered back. "Want me to buy you anything?"

Metal narrowed his gaze. Humans really were just so weird sometimes. He supposed this must just be an individual manifestation of their collective inability to truly function.

"Yes, I would like the hero sandwich."

"Huh?" Sonic was confused but accepted anyway. Addressing Wentos, he said, "I'll have the hero sandwich and a bar of chocolate then."

Wentos handed the two over to Sonic then lowered his head shyly. "W-we'll see y-you around out t-there."

He then fled.

Metal rubbed his face. He was already heading back to the dimming fire. "I understand nothing about this man. Nothing he does is logically consistent. And do the authorities not question him when he refuses to speak directly?"

Sonic smiled, rolling his eyes. "That's just how he works."

He offered the hero sandwich to Metal then began undoing the wrapping on the chocolate bar. "So what did you want that for?"

The sandwich was so big Metal had to hold it with both hands. It would certainly suit his purpose though. The massive sandwich was a cacophony of carbohydrates. Even the bread alone would be enough to put anyone into a post-sugar rush stupor, and that wasn't even counting the cheese, meat, or vegetables. And although Sonic may be large and very muscular, even he would have to succumb to the sandwich's relaxing properties.

Metal started, "I bought it for—"

But when he saw what Sonic was eating, he choked off with a beep. "W-what are you eating?"

"Uh—" Sonic flushed, averting his gaze as he took another bite. "Chocolate. Sorry, it...reminds me of Chip."

"C-chocolate?" Metal stammered. "But chocolate...Sonic, chocolate contains theobromine!"

Sonic blinked. "...What?"

"You know, theobromine. It is the compound that makes chocolate toxic to—"

Metal sheepishly cut off the rest of his sentence, but he still eyed the chocolate warily.

Sonic eyed Metal back, raising a brow suspiciously. "What's up, Mets?"

Metal gave Sonic an entirely unconvincing wave. "It is nothing. Only that," Metal help up the sandwich, "would you not enjoy eating this more?"

Sonic hummed, amused. "You got that for me?"

He shrugged then stashed the remaining half of chocolate away. Taking the sandwich in his hands, he tilted his head back toward the fire. "You wanna sit back down first?"

Metal eyed the fire. It was definitely dimming by now, faint, translucent tendrils licking up from the fire pit.

Metal sat down next to the fire such that the soles of his feet touched the fire pit stones. He held out his hands.

"How is the sandwich?"

Sonic took a bite of the sandwich, made easier given his larger mouth. "Pretty good. I had a bunch of these when I was busy putting the world back together."

"I see." Metal tapped his feet against the stones. "It must be relaxing to eat it again. It is a comfort food of sorts."

Sonic glanced at Metal, looking suspicious again, almost as if he could sense Metal's intentions.

"Y-yeah, I guess it is."

He finished his sandwich then began to roll his shoulders up and down, easing tension. Reaching up to one of his shoulders, he scratched it lightly. His ears twitched.

Metal slinked away from Sonic's gaze, pressing his own palms together and looking off into the distance. He hesitated there for just a moment, just enough to regroup.

He had to do this. He had to get Sonic to turn feral. Not only for his own data, and of course Metal was still profoundly curious about Sonic's altered form, but for Sonic's sake as well. Sonic had been nothing but kind to Metal, and Metal owed him this much at least. If there was an optimal path, Metal had to follow it no matter what.

"Sonic, you seem like—well, I mean I could, ah—" Without standing up, Metal eased over, positioning himself behind Sonic. He set his hand on Sonic's shoulder, tentatively giving Sonic a sample scratch by placing the tips of his fingers just slightly into the fur. "I could help—if you cannot reach back here, I mean."

Sonic's hand froze in place. "You could...help? Like, scratching here, you mean?" He chuckled sheepishly. "You know that I can stretch my arms, right?"

Metal nearly pulled away, but he forced his hand to stay. "Ah, it is not so much the stretch as it is the combined angle and relative hardness of the scratching mechanism. I believe this means I am best suited to the task."

"Oh," Sonic uttered, not seeming to know how else to respond. Slowly, he moved his hand away but didn't keep eye contact with Metal. "If you want?"

"Ah, it is not so much what I want per se, more what is strictly optimal in this particular problem space."

Metal hesitated for just a moment. Had Sonic's fur always been this warm? Or had his senses really been heightened by Eggman's trap that much?

Then he slipped his fingers past Sonic's fur, running the tips along the skin where Sonic seemed to itch.

"M-mm." Sonic unconsciously leaned back into Metal's gentle scratches.

Was it working? Maybe it really was working. Wait, no. Of course it was working. Metal always knew this would work. His plan was flawless.

Without saying a word, Metal brought his other hand up to Sonic's shoulder, pressing both palms against Sonic's bodyweight.

Sonic let out a soft, surprised noise, not expecting the extra attention. He bit his bottom lip at first, tense, but couldn't stop the low rumbling noise coming from his throat.

Encouraged, Metal brought his hands down to the base of Sonic's shoulders. He deepened the scratch but still didn't say anything lest the extra noise stop Sonic from relaxing.

Sonic eventually gave in to the gentle touches, stopping himself from tensing up. He relaxed. His body laid back involuntarily, leaving Sonic's head partially resting in Metal's lap. Sonic's eyes were closed, and his purring grew louder.

Metal let out a small, surprised beep. If he had thought Sonic's back warm, his head was even warmer still.

And yet Metal was so close. He had never seen Sonic so relaxed. All he should have to do is move his hands to the back of Sonic's head, scratch there, and—

Sonic's body language shifted suddenly. He rolled his head further into Metal's lap. His fangs and claws lengthened. His eyes opened, looking up at Metal with their feral colors. He seemed relaxed, but no longer distracted.

It...it worked! It had actually worked! Sonic was feral now and...and—

And Metal definitely hadn't thought this far ahead.

Sonic blinked, tilting his head at Metal and leaning into him, even letting out a soft whine.

Ah, yes. Metal knew the cause of that: he had stopped scratching. And if Sonic wanted more scratches, was Metal really in a place to deny him them now?

So Metal had no choice but to resume scratching behind Sonic's ear.

Sonic smiled, sitting up somewhat to brush his forehead against Metal's muzzle. Sonic's feral purr rumbled deeper and rougher than his standard noises.

"S-sonic—" Metal beeped again. He had almost gotten used to his new ability to feel until Sonic had brushed against his muzzle, and Metal was forced to confront how sensitive this sensation really was.

But he had to keep on track. Tails would be collecting data, and Sonic would remember all of this later. He just needed to stay focused.

Luckily, as anticipated, Jari-Pekka was still standing outside his igloo. Did that man ever go inside? Probably not. He probably forgot how to open the door.

But Metal needed to get Sonic over there.

"Ah, Sonic? Do you want to come with me for a moment?"

Sonic tilted his head but still pushed himself up, albeit reluctantly. And as he did so, he placed one arm around Metal, lifting Metal up into a standing position alongside Sonic.

Sonic looked around, probably curious about where Metal wanted to go.

"Over here."

Metal took Sonic's hand and lead him around the fire pit. Once they were in front of Jari-Pekka, Metal immediately dropped Sonic's hand and took a swift step behind him.

It was nighttime. Sonic was going to remember all of this.

Jari-Pekka looked over at Sonic, confused. Sonic looked back. A long moment passed.

Sonic didn't seem violent at all. He glanced over at Metal as if expecting instructions.

Metal waved ahead but looked at Sonic. "This is Jari-Pekka. You remember him, do you not? Go ahead and say hello to him."

Sonic raised a brow, confused. Although he looked unsure, Sonic glanced back at Jari-Pekka, mouth shifting in a motion unnatural to Sonic's normal state.

He could only let out a soft growl.

Jari-Pekka laughed. "Well, hello to you too, Sonic!"

Sonic jumped back, almost unnerved, but not provoked to attack. He seemed more weirded out than anything.

Well, Metal supposed that was that. Sonic had said hello, the old man had remembered his name somehow, and Sonic would remember all of this later. When Tails and Metal shared this data, Sonic would then know he wasn't a monster, and all would be well.

Getting Sonic to turn back was now the only problem.

A strange sensation began to creep along Metal's frame. What was it? It felt charged somehow, but not in an electric way. It was more mechanical than that, like a compressed spring. It was like anxiety. He didn't like it. It almost _hurt_.

Metal shivered, bringing his hands up to cup his own arms. Instinctively, he turned back to the fire.

It had burned completely out. The embers weren't even glowing now. The fire pit was as dark as the night sky.

And the sensation was growing too. What had started as a kind of advanced irritation had transformed into a gnawing, raw pain that crept along his outer frame like frost.

"S-sonic—?" His voice was weak and beepy. "S-something—something is happening—"

Sonic's ears twitched. He jerked his head back toward Metal. Metal was shivering. Immediately, Sonic was at Metal's side. Without hesitation, Sonic lifted Metal into his arms.

Fluff surrounded Metal instantly. Sonic cradled Metal close, closer than Sonic's non-feral state ever had, and even dared to tilt his head downward, glancing at Metal with a concerned expression.

Heat from Sonic's fur immediately began to sink into Metal's armor, and as it did, the terrible sensation began to recede. The more Metal laid there, simply soaking up the heat like some sort of robotic sponge, the less it hurt.

The realization hit him.

"I am cold. I can get cold now."

Sonic murmured small noises sympathetically, pulling Metal upwards in order to nuzzle Metal's forehead, sharing more warmth.

Metal tried to lean away. He really did. He knew Sonic was going to remember all of this. But it wasn't until he was already halfway under Sonic's nuzzle that he tried, and by that point, it was too late. He was practically submerged by fur and warmth, and there was no possible way for him to get out of it.

The worst part though was it actually helped a lot. The cold had come on subtly, and Metal hadn't realized just how freezing he was until Sonic had picked up him. That feeling was gone now, replaced by a warm, soothing glow that sunk deep into his chassis.

For a brief moment, Metal looked up and saw Sonic's face. His eyes were tinged with Dark Gaia energy, but there was no malice to them. Instead, they radiated a kindness, an understanding. It was as if, in this moment, there was no one else in the world but the two of them.

"S-sonic," Metal muttered.

Sonic shifted. One arm still holding Metal, Sonic brought the other to Metal's face, perhaps to warm Metal's cheek. For a moment, it almost seemed like this feral Sonic was going to form a real sentence.

Then the communicator on Sonic's leg rang. Sonic jumped, his eyes returning to their normal colors, but he didn't release Metal.

There was static at first, but a familiar voice quickly came through the line.

"Sonic? Do you read me?"

It was Tails.

Instead of a proper response, Sonic only uttered a weak noise, as if his voice was still in feral mode. "A-ah..."

Sonic was staring at nothing, but his face was slowly turning red.

_Very_ red.


	20. Chapter 20

The plane ride was five levels of awkward at least. Actually, scratch that—it was "boss level that you think is the final one until who you thought was just your robotic copy turns out to be the actual final boss" kind of awkward.

Metal had always been one heck of a boss, certainly. But as much as Sonic hated to admit it, Metal might just be even better at petting him.

Sonic groaned mentally, resisting any urge to slam his face into the control panel. Any sharp movements with his thick arms would surely tear off the entire thing.

He couldn't even say anything to Metal. The entire ride continued in silence, and Sonic didn't even dare look back at Metal during it. He was worried that, if he did, Metal would be staring back at him, and then he would have to say something.

Instead, he just landed the plane near Tails' lab. He climbed out so fast that he nearly tripped. And when he went inside, Tails was looking at his data as usual. Sonic rubbed his forehead, hoping that the data wasn't from just a little while ago.

He tried not to give himself away though, and instead acted casual. "H-hey, Tails!"

Apparently, "casual" meant stuttering and having his voice crack.

Tails stiffened his posture. It was a subtle motion, no one else would have recognized it, but Sonic did. He had known Tails long enough to learn his body language.

"Hey, Sonic! You made it back quickly." Tails paused then added, "How was the flight?"

"The flight—" Sonic cleared his throat forcibly. "The flight was fine. Very—uh—quiet. Serene. So, um, is something up?"

Tails gave Sonic a small nod. He stood up and pulled an extra chair closer to his desk. He gestured toward it then turned back to his computer. "Not so much up, but, um, if you wanna sit down, I'll show you."

"Uh, sure," Sonic said. He was briefly snapped out of his flustered state by an odd feeling; Tails was currently hiding something from him.

He stretched an arm to the extra chair and brought it over to himself to sit down.

Tails tilted the monitor up, giving Sonic a clearer view. "So. Your Holoska trip. It went well, yeah?"

Sonic blushed then immediately scolded himself for blushing. He gave himself away far too fast. "Y-yeah, it went well, I guess. I mean, we weren't really supposed to do anything there, so...just a nice trip."

Tails looked at Sonic. Then he looked back at the screen. He brushed his hair tuft back and took in a deep breath. He exhaled slowly.

Then he turned back to Sonic. "Sonic, it's okay. I have all the data right here. I know what happened with your feral form."

Sonic cringed. He facepalmed, groaning. "Of course you do."

He paused for a long moment before removing the device from his wrist and placing it on the desk. He looked back at Tails. "O-okay, so the data says something important then?"

"Well—" Tails started, but stopped suddenly as he noticed, Metal, who must have slinked in quietly and was now standing behind Sonic. Tails continued, "It confirms what we thought. Your feral form isn't actually dangerous. You didn't do anything harmful while in Holoska."

Sonic blinked, suddenly feeling like something was off. "W-wait, _we?_ "

He glanced back at Metal, not understanding since Metal had been largely silent all this time. "Mets, you...?"

Sonic looked back at Tails. "What's this all about?"

Tails looked to Metal for help, but Metal still said nothing. Metal didn't even move. He stood motionless to the point he resembled a statue.

Tails finally sighed, flipping his hair tuft back again. "We—er, Metal and myself, we kind of...sort of, you know..."

He bit his lip then added quickly, "...set this up."

Sonic's ears perked. "You—huh?"

Sonic stood up, confused. " _Why?_ I could've seriously hurt someone! What made you think that I wouldn't do anything bad?"

Metal still didn't move.

Although his optics did waver a little.

Tails chewed his lip. "Well, we needed the data, and we knew you wouldn't do anything wrong. Metal said—"

That seemed to finally inspire action into Metal. He moved so quickly that he was somehow suddenly between Tails and Sonic, his arms wide.

"Ah, well, yes, what Tails means to imply is we ran his data through several models—a sort of, er, cross Gaussian analysis in a reduced vector space. All very complicated. Very detailed. Many non-integrable functions. But yes, it was very scientific. Very impersonal. The data do not lie. They never lie, Sonic. Never. And they said you would not do anything wrong so we just went with this hypothesis. Yes."

Sonic paused, glancing over at Metal. After a moment, he looked back to Tails. "Is that true?"

Tails folded his arms and gave Metal a stern, almost disappointed look. "That's not really true. We assumed you'd be safe because Metal mentioned that you—"

Metal beeped loudly, cutting off Tails. Both Sonic and Tails turned to him. Metal leaned back.

"Ah…" Metal finally shook his head. He leaned down and tapped his forehead. Then he looked back up. "We knew it would be safe because you went feral when the doctor attacked back in Apotos, and you did not do anything dangerous. In fact...in fact, you may have...may have hugged me. Hence the hypothesis."

"I—" Sonic blinked.

A part of him said that he shouldn't be surprised, given what had happened in Holoska.

He flushed. "S-so...then the feral form's fine? Why'd I attack Metal and Silver Sonic so violently before then?"

"Your feral form isn't evil. It's just a different expression of yourself," Tails said. "That's why you attacked Silver Sonic before. It attacked you first, and you were just defending yourself."

"Huh..." Sonic hummed, mulling over the idea in his head. "I guess that makes me feel a little better then."

He paused, his eyes darting between the two. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Metal cut in. "We could not tell you. That would have voided the experiment. Expectation influences results. It is the placebo effect."

"That—and," Tails added, "you had to be relaxed to trigger the feral form. We didn't think you'd relax if you knew."

"Oh." Sonic needed a minute to take that in. He nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I probably wouldn't."

He briefly wondered if he had been left out of the loop on anything else.

He smiled a strange, strained smile. His mind was still jumbled from the sudden overload of information. "Thanks. You guys really had my back, huh?"

The smile disappeared, his expression turning more to something of deep thought. He turned, starting to walk out of the room.

He had some things to think about.

Not wanting to worry Tails or Metal, he said over his shoulder, "I gotta step out for a minute. I'll be back in a few."

Metal watched Sonic leave without saying a word. There wasn't much to say, and anyway, speaking would have ruined the moment. Speaking would take precious clock cycles away from analysis, and he had plenty of that going on.

"I surmise that went about as well as could be expected," Metal said, turning back to Tails.

Tails rubbed the back of his head, letting out a sigh. "Yeah. I think it was something Sonic needed to know."

"Do you feel this information was well-received? Sonic's expression was difficult to read, even with all my models."

Tails shrugged. "You've still got a lot to learn. But I think he's fine overall. He just needs some time to let it sit. Sonic doesn't like being kept unaware."

Metal nodded. That was an understandable reaction. Metal too would feel disappointed if he had known data were being deliberately withheld.

At least this data would help Sonic. They had confirmation now. Sonic's feral form wasn't dangerous, and Sonic now knew that. It was an optimal solution.

Although Metal still lacked other data.

"Tails?" Metal hesitated. "I have a query to ask of you."

"Yeah?" Tails leaned on the nearest chair. "What is it?"

"You hypothesize that Sonic's altered form still acts in accordance with Sonic's needs and wants. But this leaves other questions unanswered. For example—" Metal knew it was irrational, Tails had all the data anyway, but Metal paused for just a moment before continuing. "Why would Sonic act so affectionate toward me and no one else?"

"Oh, that's an easy one," Tails began. "You see, Sonic's talked a lot about you since you've started helping him. He probably sees you as a really good friend, and given how much physical contact you've had with him, his scent's likely all over you."

Tails hummed, giving his conclusion as if he was stating the obvious. "Sonic's feral form must see you as his mate."

Mate. Metal knew of this word. It had a precise, biological definition. When one living organism took particular interest in another—

Metal suddenly felt very warm. Something must have become an energy sink, and the increased movement of his internal power was probably just making him hot.

"Ah, no, this is impossible. It is not consistent with other data because—"

Because Metal certainly didn't find Sonic attractive. That would be ridiculous. He and Sonic were just perfect friends. Just like Tails. And anyway, Metal was just a robot, and Sonic was...well, Sonic was Sonic. So clearly the very notion was illogical in every sense of the term.

"—because it is impossible," Metal finally said. "There must be a simpler explanation."

Tails chuckled. Apparently, he suddenly found this clear impossibility very amusing. "Okay. What's your explanation then?"

Metal held his hand up entirely too casually. "Sonic's feral form is animalistic. Animals prefer things that are familiar to them when under stress. Therefore, Occam's razor would suggest this is the explanation. It is that simple."

"You don't sound like you believe that theory," Tails commented. "Besides, Sonic wasn't under stress when he cuddled you."

"I do not _believe_ anything. Belief is secondary to knowledge. And anyway, what you have is a hypothesis, not a theory." Metal waved again. "We would need more data to draw coherent conclusions anyway. Unscientific speculation helped no one."

"If you say so," Tails said with a shrug, sounding fully confident in himself. "I don't see why it's such a big deal anyway. I mean, it's not like you—"

Tails was cut off as Sonic returned to the room, waving. "Hey, I'm back! I—"

Sonic blinked, glancing at Metal, then to Tails. "Did I miss anything?"

Sonic was leaning over in the doorway. He had to stand that way simply because he was so large and so muscular. The back hallway was well-lit too, and so Sonic's form stood out as crisp and vivid as a painting.

Metal beeped.

Tails shook his head. "You didn't miss a thing. But what's up? Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. A little," Sonic replied. "I, uh, really appreciate you guys going through all that trouble for me."

He crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame. "Anyway, I figured I should start heading home. You coming, Mets?"

Metal should have looked away. He really should have. It wasn't polite to stare at someone for so long. It was one of the few lessons he had learned by now, and he was violating it. So he should turn his head away right now and look at his other friend, Tails.

Metal continued to stare.

"A-ah, ah yes. We should head home."

Sonic smiled a small smile. "Cool. Let's go."

He averted his gaze from Metal and headed for the door.

Metal really had only one choice here, so he got up without a word. He managed to tear his gaze away from Sonic's luxurious, furry quills for just long enough to give Tails a small nod. Then he turned back to Sonic.

Looking away from Tails proved trivial. Looking away from Sonic proved impossible.

And yet, Metal still couldn't forget what Tails had said.

Metal shook his head. So what if Sonic was strong and kind and passionate and beautiful? Those were all qualities Sonic posed. They were simply objective features of Sonic's form and personality. For just as everyone had to admit a fine painting was a work of art, even Metal had to admit Sonic looked handsome.

Sonic looked _very_ handsome.


	21. Chapter 21

Book titles, unfortunately, were made up of words. That made them unruly. Words had to be stored as character arrays, and that made them hard to sort. That was one reason numbers were superior. If books had numbers instead of titles, Metal could have used integers as his sort key. Well technically, book titles did come with ISBNs, but he couldn't use those to sort by. Then only he could have understood the sorting mechanism, and he had to consider Sonic's needs.

He  _always_  considered Sonic's needs.

So Metal was left with the next best thing. To manage his growing collection of books, Metal sorted them in alphabetical order. Search through an ordered set of strings could be done in log₂(n) time. This made his bookshelf optimal.

He took a step backward from the bookshelf and admired his work. While it was hardly a personal library, his small collection of titles contained considerable variety. There were histories, biographies, encyclopedias, dictionaries, popular non-fiction, popular fiction, literary works, and more. And he had read them all too, turned each page carefully, as if they were made of gold leaf, and then stored them back on his bookshelf in the proper order.

There was a knock at the door.

"Mets?"

"Sonic—! Ah, just a moment." Metal quickly grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down in the worn, upholstered chair next to his bookshelf. He flipped it open. "You may come in."

With a soft click, the door opened slowly to reveal Sonic's muscular form and perfect smile.

"Hey!" Sonic walked into the room, glancing briefly at the bookshelf. "Got everything the way you want it?"

Without looking up from the book, Metal said, "Ah, yes. This bookshelf was an ideal addition to this room. My collection of literature is coming along quite well."

"I think it's nice," Sonic agreed. "Adds a lot of you to the room."

He walked over and leaned onto the chair. "Reading anything good?"

Since Sonic had said that, Metal now had to actually read the book in front of him. He squinted down. Stamped inside the book's glossy pages were images of perfectly cooked Spagonian cuisine.

He held the book up so Sonic could see. "Yes. I am learning of the local culture."

Sonic hummed with interest. "Looks good."

He glanced down at Metal. "But why read up on 'em if you can't eat? Unless..." He smirked. "Mets, are you gonna cook for me?"

Metal looked up over the edge of his book, hoping his expression didn't give away the eager hint in his voice. "Do you wish for me to cook for you? I suppose it is the only way for me to validate my technique."

Sonic blinked, looking surprised at first, then chuckled. "I mean, I'm sure you'd be great at it if you did."

Metal quickly flipped to the next page. Now he was in trouble. Now he had to find a recipe.

He had to live up to Sonic's words.

"Then I shall give it a try. I believe I have a local Spagonian recipe I would like to attempt."

"Sure!" Sonic gave a reassuring thumb's up. "Go for it!"

Metal gave Sonic a quick nod then stood up by rolling his weight onto the back of his feet. He slid the cookbook under his arm and head back downstairs to the kitchen.

Sonic's kitchen may be small, but Metal already had it organized. He placed the book along the counter and flipped back to the recipe with one hand while he reached for a frying pan with the other.

Sonic had followed behind him, taking a seat at the table in the kitchen.

"Mind if I watch?"

Metal tightened his grip on the panhandle. "This would be acceptable."

So not only would Sonic eat his meal, but he would also be watching Metal cook it.

There was no pressure.

Metal set the pan on the range and turned up the heat. He could ask Sonic how he wanted his steak, but it would be more impressive if Metal got it right without any input.

And Metal already knew everything Sonic liked anyway.

So he waited. And he waited. And eventually, the pan got hot enough.

Using a fork, he slid a raw, red steak onto the pan.

There was a small creak from the chair behind Metal, presumably as Sonic started leaning back on it.

"Have you ever cooked before, Mets?"

Metal took half a step backward, watching the steak sizzle.

"I have not. It is an odd experience. Most people use their sense of taste or smell to judge the readiness of food, but I lack such senses."

He continued to stare at the steak. He could see the steam bubble against the pan, hear it hissing, but he would never smell it.

Sonic was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was fond.

"You don't need those kinds of senses. You're cool enough the way you are."

Metal continued to stare at the steak. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he slid it from the pan onto a plate.

He turned to Sonic. "But it is not a matter of coolness. It is a matter of experience. There is a whole dimension of the world I will never experience simply because I am...well, because I am me."

"Yeah, but you're still way better than any average mobian," Sonic argued. "You're smarter too. I bet you wouldn't be the same person if you were born as a mobian instead."

He hesitated. "Besides, I mean...I owe you a lot. I don't know where I'd be right now if you hadn't come along."

For a single instant, Metal met Sonic's gaze. There was kindness there, an understanding. And yet, there was more than that too. There was a sense of kinship, of shared experience. For now Sonic was as much an outcast as was Metal, and the words Sonic spoke were coming from a place of fundamental honesty.

"...Thank you," Metal said quietly. He slid the steak in front of Sonic.

Sonic beamed. "You're welcome."

He stared at the steak then glanced over at a power outlet near the table. He gestured to the other seat. "I know it's not really the same, but you could sit over there and charge while I eat?"

Metal picked up a fork and carefully turned it over in his hand, running his finger across the smooth tines.

Then he quietly took a seat across from Sonic, looking up from the fork just long enough to spare Sonic a fleeting glance.

"Yes, this is a sufficient idea," Metal said, plugging himself into the wall. "We are both refueling in our own way. It may be a different experience, but the end result is the same."

He pressed the fork between his palms. "And we may do it together."

Sonic nodded, satisfied, then raised a hand, gesturing for the fork.

Metal glanced at the fork. He could technically just pass it to Sonic. That would be simplest. And yet…

Sonic did always enjoy making a game of things.

"Sonic," Metal tossed the fork into the air. "Catch!"

For a moment, Sonic leaned forward, mouth opening just slightly. Unlike the last time with the bone though, he caught the fork in his fist.

Sonic flushed just slightly, shaking his head and focusing back on his food. He grabbed a nearby knife to go with his fork. He was awkward with both utensils at first as if he needed a second to get used to the feel of them in his larger hands.

He ungracefully cut off a piece of the steak, a piece that seemed large even for him.

He lifted it with the fork and stared at it, as if in a debate with himself, then gingerly bit into it.

The medium-well steak held strong in its almost rubbery texture. It looked hard to chew, but that didn't last long. Sonic growled almost animalistically as he tore at the piece.

Metal hesitated.

"Sonic?" Metal asked. "How is the steak?"

Sonic swallowed the piece of steak then met Metal's gaze. "It's great!" He paused, staring at Metal oddly. "What's that look for?"

"I am studying your response to gather feedback for my own technique. I assume you are enjoying it, given the manner in which you are eating it."

"The way I'm eating it?" Sonic echoed, his gaze turning somewhat sheepish. "What do you mean?"

"You are eating in a similar manner to a dog," Metal said.

"...Ah," Sonic replied quietly. His eyes darted away from Metal, down to the plate, then to the wall. Metal glanced over to the same wall, but there was nothing of interest there, and so he did not understand.

Sonic cleared his throat, letting out a chuckle. There was a certain, uncanny force to it. "It's just that great I guess!"

He looked back down at the plate, readying his hands to continue eating. Yet, the silverware didn't come into contact with the steak again.

Sonic sat perfectly still, his expression wavering. He then set the fork and knife down on the plate, letting his hands rest on the table.

His fingers twitched.

Finally, he pushed his seat back and stood up. He took the plate in his hands, giving Metal an unusual smile.

"I, uh, think I'll finish it in my room though. Let you charge in peace, y'know?"

He turned away, calling over his shoulder as he walked off, "I'll wash the pan for you later!"

"Sonic?" Metal called out to him. But either Sonic didn't hear him or he wasn't listening because Sonic kept going until he disappeared against the staircase.

Metal then simply sat there for a moment. What had been that reaction? It certainly wasn't anything Metal had expected. Why would Sonic react so poorly to a logical exchange? He had asked Metal a question, and Metal had answered with his observations. That was enough, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Metal skidded over to the staircase, peering over it with one hand on the railing.

"Sonic?"

Still no response.

Metal headed up the stairs. The door to Sonic's room was slightly ajar. Metal stepped toward it.

Inside, Sonic was sitting on his bed, back facing Metal. His plate was sitting awkwardly in his lap, and the pieces of steak had been cut so finely that any piece could be swallowed without chewing.

Metal's optics widened. He stood with his hand on the doorknob so delicately it was as if the door were made of glass.

"S-sonic?" Metal whispered.

Sonic's ear flickered, but he didn't turn around.

"Yeah? Need something?" His voice was lacking enthusiasm.

The sight of the steak made the fans inside Metal's chest feel faint and weak as if he were falling. He could almost hear his own voice speaking.

_You are eating in a similar manner to a dog._

"Sonic," Metal hesitated then stepped into the room. "I-I should not have said that. I am sorry."

Sonic didn't speak for an agonizingly long time.

Finally, he sighed. "...Nah. Don't worry about it, Mets. You were just telling me the truth."

"No. It is unacceptable." Metal was standing behind Sonic now, so close he could see the plate over Sonic's shoulder. "I should not have said it so bluntly. I should have—should have…"

There was always more to the truth.

"I should have been honest with you about what happened in the broadcast station. I mean, it was not so different from what happened in Holoska but—"

Metal shook his head. "I have been inconsistent in my honesty with you."

Sonic let out a soft grunt. He mindlessly stabbed at a piece of steak then stopped. He held his silverware in one hand, then lifted the plate with the other and dumped the plate back, the remaining pieces of steak dropping into his mouth.

He swallowed. "It's fine, Mets. I get it."

He stood up, going over to one of his drawers. He opened it and pulled out the glimmering Chaos Emerald.

Sonic stared at it, back still facing Metal. Cupping his hands over it, he steeled himself up.

A moment passed. Suddenly, a small jolt of electricity surrounded Sonic's body, causing his fur to fluff up. Nothing else happened.

Sonic sighed, setting the Emerald back into the drawer. "'Least I didn't get burned this time."

Metal stiffened. It wasn't that he had all of Sonic's data, nor was it the fact he had known Sonic for a long time. It was the fact that Sonic was his dearest friend. That was what gave it away. For Metal knew that posture, knew that tone, knew that face.

If ever Sonic needed him, it was now.

He stepped up to Sonic's side. "May I see your hand?"

Sonic turned his head to Metal then shrugged. He offered Metal his hand.

"The bandages are still fine if that's what you're worried about."

Metal took Sonic's hand into his own. It had massive weight and bulk, and just one of Sonic's hands completely dwarfed both of Metal's own.

He traced his fingertips against the edge of Sonic's bandage. "The integrity of the material is secure. But—"

His fingers brushed the edge of the fur along Sonic's wrist.

"It is your fur. The Emerald's discharge must have slightly charged your fur as if with static."

"Yeah." Sonic tried to brush down his own fur with his free hand, to no avail.

Metal hesitated. This approach wasn't working.

"You need something with the opposite charge to take the static away. Like so—"

Delicately, he ran his fingers against the fur along the top of Sonic's wrist, smoothing it flat.

Sonic watched quietly, his eyes occasionally darting over to Metal.

His mouth opened once, but he immediately shut it.

Metal cupped his hands around Sonic's wrist. The fur there was smooth and warm and oddly delicate. It was like Sonic himself in that way—protective and strong, and yet not unkindly.

"You told me what I said back in the kitchen was the truth. But was it really? I think, perhaps, it was not."

Metal moved closer to Sonic, trailing his hands up Sonic's bicep. "Being abandoned by the doctor, getting to know you better...these things have been disorienting. I have doubted myself and doubted my purpose. It has been difficult to process this.

"But I have learned—thanks to you, might I add—that my models from before, my worldview...while they may not be directly wrong, they were too simplistic. They were so simple as to not be useful."

Metal stepped even closer, now resting his hands against Sonic's shoulders. "So to call you an animal is not the truth. It is no more true than my purpose being to serve the doctor. An interpretation of facts perhaps, but not the truth.

"And what is the truth, the honest, absolute truth—" Metal placed his hand against Sonic's chest. Sonic's heartbeat was firm and rhythmic, as precise as a harmonic function itself. "—is that you are still Sonic the Hedgehog. You are not an animal."

Metal then threw his hands around Sonic and pressed his forehead into the smooth fur of Sonic's chest in an embrace.

Sonic stiffened. "M-metal..."

His hands reached up for Metal, but he stopped halfway. "You really don't see me that way? Even after all of the stuff that's been happening?"

"I do not see you that way at all. In fact—"

Metal pulled back from the hug, now standing just a few centimeters away from Sonic. "I will not lie. When I first discovered your new form and all of its...associated concerns, I was deeply afraid.

"But now," Metal averted his gaze, "I do not see you that way at all. You are one of my very dearest friends, and I know there is nothing to fear from you. I would trust you with my very existence."

"I'd trust you too," Sonic replied, voice warmer than before. "Just...I feel bad about all that feral stuff I couldn't control. Hurting you the first time was worse, but..."

When Metal looked back, Sonic was flushing.

"I-I figured that all the cuddling I did before would've at least made you too uncomfortable."

"Ah—" Now that was a dilemma. The cuddling did not, in fact, make Metal uncomfortable. Truth be told, he wouldn't say no to more of it.

And yet that was also still not entirely true.

"It did not make me uncomfortable, no." Metal brushed the top of his own head. "If hypothetically speaking, it were to happen again, I would be open to accepting those circumstances."

"Open?" Sonic echoed.

He pursed his lips, presumably thinking over the strict friendliness of Metal's reply.

Then he  _smirked._  "So, if I hugged you right now, you wouldn't mind?"

Metal looked up. Sonic's room was utterly silent around them. The faint, fading sunlight from outside scattered inside in thin lines from Sonic's window.

Then Metal set his hand on Sonic's chest. "I would be open to accepting these circumstances, yes."

Sonic gently grabbed Metal's hand off his chest, holding it gently. "Good."

With his other hand, Sonic pulled Metal into a deep hug. Sonic's fur brushed the sides of Metal's cheeks.

"Thanks, Mets."

A soft beep escaped Metal. His hands trailed up Sonic's back, and he pressed his palms into Sonic's fur. The weight of Sonic's head rested like a pillow against his own.

"And thanks to you as well, Sonic."

Sonic tightened the hug, assuring Metal that he had heard, then pulled back. He was beaming. But then he noticed his fur was still sticking up, and he frowned. He turned back to Metal with a smirk. "Would you be open to fixing the rest of my fur too?"

Metal leaned backward, shifting himself along the other side of Sonic's body. "I suppose I cannot leave the job half finished after all."

Metal worked his fingers back into Sonic's fur.

Sonic shuddered at first—perhaps Metal's hands were cold?—then sat back on his bed to give Metal a better reach. He averted his gaze but still offered his arm for Metal to smooth out.

Metal held Sonic's forearm in both his hands, smoothing the fur with the back of his hand. The room was utterly silent, and yet Metal could think of nothing more to say.

The silence was cut by a low rumbling sound. At first, it seemed to come out of nowhere, but as Metal listened, he found the source.

It was coming from Sonic.

Metal completely stopped. For a moment, he simply stood there.

Then he finally said, "S-sonic?"

Sonic blushed, the noise stopping as he choked it back. "U-uh—"

He shook his head as if he had been in a daze. "W-was that me? I…I didn't mean to. It just..."

"You just…" Metal trailed off. He was still holding Sonic's forearm, and he looked down at it. "Was that...you...purring?"

Sonic's blush spread further across his face. "I-I guess?" he asked. "Sorry. It must be this feral thing. Maybe I can choke it back? It was just..."

He stared down at Metal's hands on his forearm. "Y-you're really good at that."

"Ah yes, well, there is no cause for alarm. It is simply a noise. There is no reason to…" Metal smoothed another patch of fur. "You think I am good at this?"

Sonic nodded sheepishly. "Yeah? I mean, I just always thought it was amazing, you know? You're a robot, but you're so gentle and you do things so perfectly."

"You truly think so? You do not think I am...well, ah—"

Metal set Sonic's arm back down then turned away. "I suppose that is not how one should respond to a compliment. I vowed I would respond to you with more grace than I did earlier, so...so I suppose I have no choice."

Metal looked up, meeting Sonic's gaze directly. "Thank you."

Sonic grinned, a few of his fangs showing. "You're welcome, Mets."

"Indeed. Well then. Perhaps I should smooth the fur on your back next? I believe I got most of this side."

"What, like..." Sonic blinked. A bit of pink was still on his face. "My back quills?"

Sonic's reaction was atypical. Why was he so concerned about his back quills? Unless—

A constant internet connection did have certain advantages, and it took but a single query for Metal to find an answer.

He could feel the bottom of this optical screen growing warm.

"I-if you would rather I not—" Metal stammered.

Surprisingly, Sonic leaped to correct him. "No!"

He flushed. "I mean...it's fine. I—uh—I'm sure you'll be good with 'em."

"But—" Metal left the rest unsaid. His research told the rest of the story. There was a certain level of intimacy associated with a hedgehog's back quills and—

And Sonic's feral form  _did_  consider Metal his mate.

The warmth in Metal's optical screen turned into a full blush. "W-well, if you insist—"

He reached his hand forward. He braced himself. He would be petting Sonic's back quills. They would be warm like the rest of Sonic's marvelous fur, and Sonic would probably purr again.

A piercing, grinding whine escaped Metal's hands.

Metal stopped.

Sonic's ears perked. Immediately, he grabbed Metal's hand in his own.

"What was that? Are you okay?"

Metal tried to clench his fingers, but his hand remained limp. "This? It is nothing serious. My motors have not been working optimally as of late, and it probably needs only a readjustment. It is nothing that I cannot handle."

And yet, Sonic's quills were still fluffed.

"Yeah?"

Sonic frowned, staring down at Metal's hand. "Is this because you're still missing that important part? You'll keep needing little repairs until then?"

Metal pulled his hand back and laid it limply against his other wrist. "That is correct. It is nothing so serious but these minor repairs will have to continue until proper maintenance is finished."

Sonic squinted, his eyes still on Metal's hand. Finally, he looked up, his expression becoming calm.

"So you'll be alright if I step out for a while?"

Metal looked up. "Yes, but...you are leaving?"

He eyes Sonic's quills. "Why?"

"Gotta ask Tails for a favor," Sonic explained simply. He stood, his gaze resolute. "I'll be back later."

He placed a hand on Metal's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then he headed out the door.

Sonic's quills were naturally the last thing Metal saw, and they were still frizzy. Metal could have fixed that. It would have been easy. Sonic would have turned around, and Metal would sink his fingers deep into Sonic's fur. It would be warm, and Metal would smooth out each and every strand with delicate care.

But no, Sonic was gone now, and Metal was left here alone. The opportunity had walked out the door with Sonic. So now how was Metal supposed to know what might have happened? Maybe, after he had smooth out Sonic's quills, Sonic would be purring, and he would turn around. He would scoop Metal up and set him in his lap, similar to his feral state. He would hold Metal there, and then he would bring Metal close. So close to his muzzle. And then Sonic's lips would—

Metal lurched forward. He was in the hallway. Without looking backward, he slammed Sonic's door and leaned his back against it.

What was he thinking?

Metal stared at his hands.

He knew very well what he had been thinking.


	22. Chapter 22

It had been a few days since Metal had essentially pet Sonic. Sonic could still practically feel how warm his cheeks had become back then, even if he didn't quite understand how it had made him feel now.

But there was no point in dwelling on that. He had to find Metal, who had gone out into the forest with the Chaos Emerald for some reason beyond Sonic's comprehension. Sonic trusted him though. He knew Metal wouldn't do anything malicious with the Chaos Emerald, but both not thinking about Metal and trying to find him at the same time was proving to be exceedingly difficult.

Yet Sonic still wanted to find him. Sure, Metal certainly deserved time to do whatever he wanted, even if that meant wandering off into the forest by himself. It wasn't like Sonic didn't leave Metal to go visit Tails alone sometimes too. But Metal also wasn't fully repaired yet.

Sonic wanted to ensure Metal wasn't harmed.

"Hey, Mets!" Sonic called out.

No response.

Sonic had a feeling Metal was fine though. Perhaps he was sitting somewhere, lost in thought? Sonic felt oddly confident in that, although he wasn't sure why.

Eventually, Sonic stumbled into an eerily familiar part of the forest: the part where he had destroyed Silver Sonic. Someone had apparently tried to clean up the mess, as the worst of the metallic shrapnel was gone. But it was all too hard to miss the stumps of the halved trees.

Sonic shook his head. He was getting off track.

As he pressed deeper into the forest, Sonic actually found who he was looking for. Metal was there, sitting against a tree, examining the Chaos Emerald between his palms.

Had Sonic's sense of smell lured him unconsciously to Metal?

Metal hadn't noticed Sonic's approach though. He appeared deep in thought, just as Sonic had speculated.

"Mets?" Sonic called out.

Metal jerked his head upright. He stared at Sonic with a wide-eyed expression. "Sonic? Ah, I see you have returned from your visit to Tails?"

Sonic nodded. "Yeah." He then focused on the Emerald, pointing to it. "What are you doing there?"

Metal cupped the Emerald between his hands and twirled it with his palms as if it were pastry dough.

"Ah well, I reasoned this would be a good place to think. It is quiet here, is it not? And the change of scenery can spark new insight."

"Ahuh." Sonic took another glance around, this time deliberately. He managed a smirk. "And you just so happened to pick this part of the forest specifically?"

Metal turned his gaze downward. "I-I am sorry. I should have asked you first, but I did not realize I would be out here for so long and—"

Sonic chuckled, interrupting Metal. "It's cool, Mets. I just...y'know..."

He trailed off momentarily, cheeks turning pink. "I started missing you."

Metal beeped quietly. "Ah, you did? So you are not upset I took the Emerald here? But of course you are not; you would have said as much…"

Metal trailed off, looking back down at the Emerald. He traced his finger along its edge.

"I know I should have asked you first. But the Emerald seemed a sensitive topic, and I did not wish to upset you further."

Sonic shook his head, partially at Metal but mostly at himself. He had been really pathetic, hadn't he? Metal's circuits were probably going to combust from all Sonic's moping. He should really fix that.

"Don't worry about it," Sonic assured. "I've got to accept all this eventually, right?"

He took a seat next to Metal, smiling. "So ask me anything. It's fine, really."

Metal held the Emerald up. Even in the darkness of the night forest, the Emerald glistened with a brilliant intensity.

"Well, I have been curious. Why is it you could use the Chaos Emerald before but you cannot use it now? Did anything change? And if so, what was it? Mind you, this requires a working model of the Chaos Emeralds, which we do not have as of yet, but I have a couple of conjectures."

Sonic frowned, eyeing the Emerald but making no motions to touch it. "Isn't it just because I'm full of Dark Gaia energy now?"

"That may have been the initial hypothesis, but I am not longer sure that is true. Although Dark Gaia Energy and Chaos Energy have similar energy readings, they differ from each other in other, more important ways. For example, you recall the Master Emerald? It exists to calm the Chaos Emeralds, and yet there is no equivalence for Dark Gaia Energy."

"Sooo," Sonic tilted his head, "what does that mean?"

"It means," Metal turned, offering the Emerald to Sonic, "that you should be able to still use the Emerald. There is no physical reason blocking you."

It took a moment for Metal's words to register with Sonic. His ear flickered. "Uh, what? Then why...?"

"Why indeed. I have a theory, but I need more data before I can confirm. However, in order to get that data, I need to ask you details about your recent experiences with the Emerald, and given your current predicament, I wanted to be sure: are you comfortable providing this information?"

Sonic nodded. He trusted Metal. "Go ahead."

Metal nodded solemnly. "Tell me, Sonic. Those last times you tried to use the Emerald in this state: what were you thinking when you attempted to use them? What did you feel?"

Sonic's expression fell. He flushed, looking ashamed as he averted his gaze.

"I felt bad. _Really_ bad. I just wanted to get away from everything even though I knew I couldn't."

"I see. And these thoughts, these feelings...they were different from how you had used the Emerald in your hedgehog form, are they not? What did you use to think when you used the Emerald?"

"I don't know," Sonic admitted. "I never really thought about anything. I just used it."

"Then that is the difference. The Chaos Emeralds are mysterious, and we still do not fully understand how they work. But we do know that they respond to emotions and feelings."

Metal set the Emerald down. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand over Sonic's heart so gently he didn't even ruffle the fur on Sonic's chest.

"The Emerald will respond to what is inside your heart."

Sonic's flush remained, though his shame had largely disappeared behind a look of surprise.

He chuckled. "You know how cheesy that sounds, right, Mets?"

Metal groaned. "There is a scientific approximation of this theory, but I wished to spare you the details. Anyway, it does not really matter."

Metal picked up the Emerald again. With his other hand, he gestured toward Sonic's palm. "You should try using the Emerald again. I believe, this time, it would work."

Sonic stared at the Emerald, then at his hand, flexing his fingers over the bandage on his palm.

"...I don't know, Mets. I mean, I feel better, but I don't think it's like back when I was a hedgehog."

Still, he took the Emerald and then adjusted himself to a more comfortable position to look over it.

For a moment, Metal said nothing. He shifted awkwardly, crunching the fallen leaves and twigs that covered the forest floor. Then slowly, his gaze wandered upward until he met Sonic's eyes.

"I believe you would be able to do it if only you could try. Remember, it is about your thoughts."

Metal was sitting so close to Sonic, close enough that Sonic could feel the heat emanating from his engine.

Then Metal scooted forward. "Ah, if it helps...that is, maybe it would be easier to show you. Could you, ah, lean back slightly?"

Sonic blinked, not quite understanding where Metal was going with this. "Uh, I guess?"

He leaned back as instructed.

Sonic's fur laid in thick sheets across his chest, so when Metal leaned forward again, he started to sink into it like a tree branch falling into fresh powder snow.

Then, in a single motion, Metal heaved himself off the ground and into Sonic's lap.

"M-Mets?" Sonic's voice was surprisingly soft compared to its usual tones.

Metal turned. He met Sonic's gaze, his optics glowing brilliant red. Metal picked up Sonic's hand and cupped both it and the Emerald between his palms.

"I trust you more than I have ever trusted anyone, Sonic. I trust you with my very life. And I know you can still use the Emerald. You need only to try."

Sonic eyed Metal in his lap. He honestly couldn't believe how far both he and Metal had come.

Especially Metal. Metal was encouraging him. Metal believed in him, trusted him. Sonic didn't detect any kind of lie and knew that Metal wouldn't lie to him anyway.

"Okay. I'll try."

Sonic lifted his free hand, placing it over the Emerald. He tried to concentrate, but his thoughts were cloudy. Although it wasn't as if he could feel his Dark Gaia Energy taking over again.

It was simply that Metal being in his lap was _extremely_ distracting.

Sonic blushed. He could feel Metal's warmth against his legs and chest. He cherished that warmth. It's why, not even that long ago, he was originally going to allow Metal to touch his back quills. He wanted Metal's warmth against his quills, even knowing that such touches would be—

Sonic's blush reddened, although Metal thankfully wasn't looking at him to see it.

No. It wasn't that he was just simply disregarding the fact that only lovers stroke each others quills. He wanted Metal to do it because he...

Sonic could only stare at Metal, leaving the Emerald practically ignored in his grasp. Metal fit so perfectly in his lap and, if Sonic had any less self-control, he would've dropped the Emerald to pull Metal into a hug.

He loved Metal.

"Sonic, look! The Emerald—"

Sonic flinched, snapping out of his trance. "W-what?"

He glanced down at the Emerald and was nearly blinded by the sheer amount of light it was giving off. It was bright, yet somehow soft, wisps of light blue seeping out in all directions.

But Metal wasn't gazing at the Emerald. He was looking up at Sonic, and on his face was the single, purest look of contentment that Sonic had ever seen.

"You did it! See? I knew you could do it."

"Oh! Uh, yeah." Sonic nodded, trying to sound more invested in the Emerald working than his current realization. "Guess I did!"

Metal turned his attention back to the Emerald, gazing at the gamut of colors spilling out from its facets. He held out his hand. "May I?"

Sonic swallowed sheepishly, then nodded. Carefully, he took the Emerald from his hand and set it gently on Metal's palm.

Metal went to close his hand around the Emerald, but his fingers twitched. He tried again. His hand made a sharp, whining sound, stopping halfway through.

"Oh no." Metal's voice was quiet. "Not this again—"

Sonic's ears perked. "Your hand's acting up again?"

"It is…" Metal trailed off. With his other hand, he grabbed his own wrist, offering Sonic a clearer view of his damaged hand. "These injuries are manageable, but they worry me."

Metal shuddered. "I remember the last time the doctor attacked us. I could not do a thing. I was utterly useless. And it does not look like I will still be able to do anything about this."

"Hm." Sonic smiled. "Well, sit tight. I can at least take care of your hand."

Without warning, Sonic stood up, lifting Metal against him with one arm. With the other, he took the Emerald, focusing his own energy into it.

The Emerald flashed, surrounding them with light and teleporting them away. They ended up back in Sonic's basement.

Metal's optics flickered for a moment. Then he straightened his back. "You did it! You teleported us!"

Sonic set Metal down on a nearby chair, placing the Emerald in Metal's lap. He seemed too preoccupied looking for something to reply.

He walked over to a small toolbox and picked it up before returning to Metal. Sitting down, he opened the box and searched its contents.

Metal would have held the Emerald, but his hand was still acting up, and so he had no choice but to let is lay in his lap like some kind of pillow.

He glanced down at Sonic. "Are those Tails'?"

"Yeah," Sonic replied. "I borrowed them for this."

"For this?" Metal eyed the tools then looked back to Sonic. "What is this?"

Sonic stared at Metal with a gentle smile. "You remember when I left that one day to ask Tails for a favor? Well..."

He blushed pink as he twirled a tool in his hands. Looking back, his feelings were so obvious. "I asked him if he could teach me basic repair stuff for you."

Metal's optics widened. "You went out of your way to do this? All for me?"

"H-heh, you make it sound like such a big deal, Mets," Sonic said, trying to brush the comment off as smoothly as possible. "You need help and it's a hassle to travel back and forth from Tails' place, so I figured I'd do it instead."

"Sonic, I—" Metal looked down at his hand. It creaked when he tried to move it.

He looked back up, meeting Sonic's gaze directly. "Thank you."

Sonic smiled warmly. "You're welcome. Now..." He held his hand out. "May I?"

Metal held his own hand as if he couldn't quite believe the situation.

Then he held it out, offering it to Sonic with a surprised, yet warm, glint in his eyes.

"I would be honored."


	23. Chapter 23

Silence was a profound thing. It was the presence of an absence. Not just any absence, for an empty void contained all possibilities. But silence could not last forever. A single perturbation would bring an end to silence like a pin to a balloon.

Which was why Metal felt so anxious. It had been 27.4 days since the doctor had last attacked them, and Metal trusted the safety of that period with the same level of confidence he gave awful horoscopes in those trashy periodicals.

His nervousness was so severe he was practically shaking when he stopped in front of Sonic's room. His fist hovered just centimeters away from the whitewashed plywood that made up Sonic's door.

He should knock.

Metal stood motionless.

In a single, swift motion, Metal threw open the door. "Sonic! Sonic!"

Sonic had apparently been reading something because he began fumbling with it in his hands the second Metal entered. He jerked his head over, facing Metal with the book was clutched to his chest as if to hide it.

"O-oh! Uh—h-hey, Mets!" he greeted a bit too loudly. "What's up?"

Sonic's sudden start caught Metal by just enough surprise to pull him out of his own ruminations. "Ah, Sonic? I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt you. It is just, well—the doctor. Are you not concerned? It has been so quiet lately that I worry he is planning something."

Sonic paused for a moment, still stiff, then relaxed and looked down at the book before setting it next to him.

_Places Across Mobius, Volume 2_

"Uh, not really?" Sonic admitted. "I don't think about Egghead much. Plus, there's been..."

He glanced away from Metal, continuing, "— _other stuff_  on my mind..."

Scratching his cheek, he got up and faced Metal properly. "It's been bothering you that much?"

Metal tapped his fingers together. "It has been, yes. You may not think of the doctor much, but I know him. I lived with him most of my existence, and I know that no news is the furthest thing from good news with it comes to the doctor."

Metal shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him. "Even though my condition has improved greatly since you began your repair work, I still worry that if he attacks now, I would not be able to fight him. It would be like last time—"

Sonic frowned, looking at Metal sympathetically. He walked over then grabbed Metal's hand and turned it gently in his own as if to inspect it.

"Then I'll fight for you, just like last time," he said resolutely. "Eggman's no big deal, especially when I've got this kind of strength."

Sonic took one more glance at the book then back at Metal. "...We could go out? Y-you know, to help get your mind off things?"

With Sonic's words, holding onto thoughts about Eggman became instantly harder. While Metal still felt a tinge of worry, something about the way Sonic spoke was incredibly soothing. "Go out? You mean, ah, where would we go?"

Sonic closed his hand further over Metal, leaving it almost completely covered. "We could go to Empire City? Everyone's always doing something there, which makes it hard to think about stuff. Plus if you ever wanted to  _really_  relax, no one else ever goes into the Entrance Stage besides me."

"Empire City? Truly?" Metal had never been there in any meaningful capacity, and something about Sonic's face seemed so genuine. "Ah, you mean, just the two of us? Together?"

Sonic suddenly seemed flustered at the question. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. I mean, if you want me to invite Tails too...you two are friends now, after all—"

"N-no!" Metal insisted. "I mean, ah, Tails is probably busy right now, and I would hate to interrupt him. I believe it would be more efficient if just the two of us went."

Sonic nodded just as quickly. "Makes sense. Anyway, let's go!"

He walked passed Metal and reached for the door. "It's a d—" He cleared his throat. "—a flight. Because...we'll have to take the Tornado to get there."

"Yes. Of course. Empire City is quite far from here. It only makes sense to take the Tornado." That airplane was awfully small. He and Sonic would be sitting so close together. For the entire flight.

For hours.

"W-well then, this sounds reasonable to me. Empire City has many cultural artifacts that would aid me in my quest for deeper understanding."

"Sounds like a good excuse to me!" Sonic looked over his shoulder to Metal, winking. "Let's go!"

* * *

The Central Park of Empire City was not unlike the nucleus of an atom. For just as quarks were packed with immense energy, yet unable to escape due to the strange pull of some nuclear force, the people inside the park buzzed about with such variety in their activity that it was beyond even Metal's models to truly capture it all. There were joggers, running briskly past in their pursuit of active leisure. There were people with strollers and children, and there were people with nothing but a single cup of lukewarm coffee idling by the benches and trees.

They were all human too. Mobians like Sonic were rare, and sentient robots were even rarer. But with the wide range of people here, Metal could almost imagine that he and Sonic didn't stand out so much after all.

"The real estate of this park must be worth a small fortune," Metal said with awe. "It is so impressively large to be found inside the city."

"I know, right?" Sonic grinned. Despite all the activity going on around them, he only stared at Metal. "It's always weird when I'm walking around this packed place and then everything goes quiet once it's time for the Entrance Stage."

Most people around the area seemed to recognize Sonic. Some people waved while others appeared still unnerved, but Sonic clearly wasn't bothered by the latter.

Metal hesitantly raised his hand, offering the people waving at Sonic a reluctant greeting. "I suppose the Entrance Stage is not immediately useful to most people, but you think in a city of this size, there would still be more people there."

Metal shook his head. They were coming toward the fountain at the center of the park. Metal crept up to it thoughtfully then sat down and eyed the water bubbling up below.

"Sonic, do you see?" Metal gestured to the shiny coins that lined the bottom of the fountain. "Why is there currency here? Is it to stress test the durability of the coins in an oxidative environment?"

Sonic chuckled. "People make wishes that way. They wish on a coin and throw it into a fountain."

He gently tapped Metal's forehead. "You could probably look it up if you wanna know more."

Metal's eyes grew wide, and he flushed slightly. "Ah, that is quite alright. Your explanation is sufficient."

He stared down at the coins. The pale water bubbled delicately over them.

"Have you ever tried it? Making a wish in this way, I mean," Metal said.

Sonic looked surprised at the question. He paused, his expression thoughtful. "Don't think so. I just take whatever the world gives me."

He glanced down at his thick coat of fur then smirked at Metal. "Like this—" He pinched a small bit of fur. "And you."

Metal tapped his fingers sheepishly, trying to keep that polite combination of eye contact and looking away. "You have always been that way I suppose. You never dwell on the future."

Sonic stared at Metal, taking a few seconds longer than usual to respond. "Yeah, uh—I don't think about it...much."

Metal looked up at exactly the wrong moment, and he caught Sonic's gaze for a solid few seconds, unable to turn away lest he break some unsaid social contract.

Sonic's fur was particularly vibrant in the afternoon light.

"Ah, Sonic? Could you explain more about this park? I am curious." It was as good a save as Metal could find. "Such as this?"

He pointed at the lone food stand tucked away under the trees that lined the fountain.

Sonic looked over, eyeing the food stand. "Oh, that's the Counter of Dreams 2. They sell stuff, but it's mostly just food."

He looked at Metal rather smugly. "Why? You trying to get me to go feral again?"

"A-absolutely not! We already got the data from that so…"

Metal trailed off. He gave Sonic a knowing glance then looked very carefully at his own feet.

Sonic immediately blushed. "U-uh—I mean, I didn't mean  _that,_  but—"

He looked away, his eyes darting around to the people moving about. He was silent for a moment, the red on his face slowly disappearing. He looked as though he was thinking.

"...It's kind of weird," Sonic began softly, seeming distracted, "being like this again but having more…I don't know how to describe it. I thought about it for a while, but I guess the gist is that I notice people's emotions even more than before."

"Notice people's emotions?" Metal cocked his head, now more curious than embarrassed. "What do you mean? You have a more refined theory of mind?"

"Maybe?" Sonic replied sheepishly, looking as if he didn't know exactly what Metal meant. "I just get this feeling when I look at people, or even when I'm not looking, really. I already knew for a while that I could smell and hear better, but whatever this is goes way beyond that."

He met Metal's gaze. "Like  _you._  You're curious about what I'm saying right now, yeah?"

Metal froze, his eyes locked with Sonic's gaze. "Well yes, I am curious. But you know me well, and my curiosity is fairly obvious. But can you tell the emotions of others? Like someone in this crowd for example?"

Sonic nodded. He looked out into the crowd, spotting a child in a stroller. The child began to squirm then cry. The mother seemed unphased as she walked around the stroller to address the child. She chatted with the child, although the chatter of the crowd made it impossible to hear the exact words.

Sonic leaned close to Metal so no one would hear them. "She's  _way_  stressed. She looks fine, but she's lonely and upset."

"Truly? You think so? But her clothing is of high quality, and the child appears healthy. You really think she is in that dire of straits?"

The woman looked up, and for a brief moment, her face was tight with some kind of deep, internal anxiety. Then she took a deep breath, steeling herself up as much as she could, and wheeled the stroller away.

Metal's optics grew wide. "You were right. But how could you tell such things from such distance?"

Sonic shrugged. "I guess...it's like I can see feelings without actually seeing them." He paused, eyes briefly looking off at the woman, then raised a hand to Metal. "One sec."

He walked up to the woman, raising his voice just a bit to get her attention. Though she was surprised at first, she quickly calmed down as they engaged in a conversation that Metal couldn't hear.

Sonic handed the woman something then pointed at a nearby stand. She smiled at him and Sonic walked back to Metal with a satisfied expression.

"Maybe it has something to do with how Dark Gaia energy affects people?" Sonic suggested as if his deed was the most casual thing ever. "Back when the world was falling apart, the energy was turning people into the opposite of themselves, so...maybe having so much Dark Gaia energy myself gives me some emotion powers?"

Metal tapped the side of his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps. I suppose that is as good a theory as any. What did you give that woman, by the way?"

"Oh." Sonic glanced back at the woman, who was currently at Counter of Dreams 2. She was handing some money to the man behind the stand. "I thought that getting something nice for herself would make her happy."

As the woman took a smoothie, she waved gratefully at Sonic mid-sip.

Sonic beamed, his grin showing a view of his fangs. "Yeah, she's happy."

Metal didn't say anything. This whole thing, it was just like Sonic. Not Sonic's ability as an empath, that was new, but Sonic's wholehearted kindness to help a stranger in the most simple way.

Metal leaned back and watched the clouds pass overhead in transient whips. He could hear the murmur of the crowds around him and the soft chatter of urban wildlife up in the trees. It was just he and Sonic here together, just the two of them in this part.

Just he and Sonic, walking through the park together. Making small talk together. Appreciating the simple intimacies of this shared moment together. Just like if they were on—

Metal lurched upright, his optical screen bright red. Sonic had asked him here alone. So did that mean—

Was this a  _date_?

Sonic staggered back a little, looking surprised at Metal's sudden movement.

"W-whoa, Mets. Are—are you okay?"

But what if it wasn't a date? Sonic had never specifically said it was, and anyway, why would Sonic ask him out? Just because Metal wanted to go on a date with Sonic didn't necessarily mean Sonic wanted to go on a date with him. Metal had no evidence this was anything other than friendly.

Well, no evidence aside from everything he had gathered earlier.

He went back to staring up at the clouds. "I am perfectly fine! I assure you! Just, ah, finding the refraction of the sun's rays fascinating this time of day."

"Huh." Sonic seemed to accept that, following Metal's gaze up into the clouds. "...Is that what that emotion is then? You're fascinated?"

Metal could feel his optical screen even warmer. So it wasn't a lie at all. Sonic really  _was_  more aware of emotions.

"Ah, sure, I mean, yes. Fascinating. Of course."

Before Sonic had a chance to respond to the obvious lie, Metal stood up. "S-so where is the entrance stage?"

Sonic stared at Metal for a little longer than usual then pointed off into the distance. "Over there. Eggman's robots show up there every now and then from the zones, so people don't go back there."

He smirked, raising a fist. "But you can guess how it'll go if those bots want a fight."

Metal's gaze rested on Sonic's bicep just a little too long before he turned back to the stage. "Well, could you show me this area? If you are confident the threat is manageable, I am curious of the contents of these zones."

Sonic nodded confidently then stood alongside Metal. "Sure, I'll take you."

He raised a hand, stared at it, then offered it to Metal with a sheepish smile. "Stay close, alright? I know you're not all fixed up yet."

Metal looked up at Sonic, his eyes wide.

_Was_  this a date after all?

He placed his hand carefully into Sonic's palm. "I will stay close."

Sonic walked Metal toward the Entrance Stage, sure to go slow so that Metal could take a look around. The barrier of the Entrance Stage was glowing softly, and moving through it felt like being brushed over by the slightest gust of wind.

The Entrance Stage was massive and a stark contrast to the park. The green fields were vast and everything was unoccupied. The sounds of a crowd of people were replaced by the sound of birds tweeting and grass rustling.

Sonic looked around. His eyes fell on one of Eggman's old robots wandering about aimlessly, but it didn't seem intent on coming close.

"What do you think, Mets?"

Metal simply stood there for a moment, the grass cool beneath his feet, as he took in the sights of the city around him. It really was amazing just how busy, how bustling Empire City was, and yet in this entrance stage, they were the only ones here.

Metal took a seat along the edge of the sidewalk and watched the lone Eggman robot, an Egg Pawn, clunk around mindlessly.

Metal used to be like that until he got to know Sonic.

"Sonic? May I ask you a question?"

Sonic sat next to Metal, inches away from him. He looked comfortable there.

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

Metal really had two options here. He could either tell Sonic how he felt, how much he wanted to be with Sonic as something more than friends, or he could stay quiet. The first option would be potentially awkward if Sonic didn't share those feelings, and then it would be better to stay quiet.

He needed more information.

"Today has been fun, has it not? Just the two of use in Empire City."

Sonic giggled. "Yeah, the two of us...and that giant crowd."

He smiled, staring at Metal fondly. "But yeah, it's been real fun. We should do it again sometime."

Metal looked up at Sonic, studying that gaze with the same tenacity a mathematician would use for an equation. What was in that face? Where there any hints Sonic felt the same way?

"I would enjoy that. And...and it would be just the two of us again, right?"

"Why not?" Sonic asked. "Three's a crowd. Besides..."

His expression softened. "It's fun, just being anywhere with you."

"Really? I mean, ah, it is the same for me." Metal closed his palms, flushing slightly. He then turned and gazed at Sonic. "Being with you being fun, I mean. Just being with you."

Sonic's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. He chuckled sheepishly.

"Yeah. It's the same with me for you. A lot's happened and I know we used to be enemies, but I can't imagine going back to that now."

"It is hard to imagine we even  _were_  enemies now. I have never met anyone like you, Sonic. I think...I think you are a unique person."

Metal tapped the cold concrete beneath his fingers. "To me, I mean."

"And you're a unique robot," Sonic said in return. "Can't believe I didn't see it before, but I guess being like this was good for both of us."

He paused, looking off into the distance. He seemed deep in thought as if solving a complicated formula.

Then he looked back at Metal, even daring to slide closer. "Mets, look, about bringing you out here...I—"

Suddenly, Sonic was on the alert, ears perking up. He grabbed Metal, lifting him into his arms then hopped away just as something crashed down where they had originally been sitting.

Sonic huffed, looking more annoyed than usual at being interrupted, then glared ahead to where an unfortunately familiar face was.

Eggman.

_Of course._


	24. Chapter 24

If the unknown had caused Metal anxiety, getting an answer provided no sense of relief. It was a terrible feeling when reality proved to be worse than what you had imagined. Things had been too quiet, far too quiet, and the danger in those moments had laid waiting until it could grow into this.

Dr. Eggman stepped forward. He stood alone, no machinery, no Eggmobile. There was only the doctor and themselves, now both byproducts of the doctor's experiments.

Sonic rolled his eyes at Eggman's presence, continuing to hold Metal close as he addressed the doctor. "You've really got nothing better to do, huh, Doc?"

Eggman smiled a sly, sickening smile that made the very circuits in Metal's motherboard twitch with horror. He said, "You always were one for reversals, weren't you, rodent? I'm not the one twittering my life away dragging a battered hunk of rusted steel through Empire City."

"Who's reversing what now?" Sonic pointed to the Egg Pawn next to Eggman, the one that had been in the Entrance Stage this whole time. "Must've heard you wrong from how far away you are. That how far you need to be from me to keep up that confidence?"

Eggman took another step toward Sonic, his arms crossed and his chin high. "Hardly. You know, Sonic, if you were a hedgehog, this distance would have meant nothing, wouldn't it? But now that you're a mangy bag of fur, you couldn't make it over here in time if you wanted to."

Sonic snorted. "Won't be saying that for long once I beat up your future pile of junk."

Sonic finally set Metal down and trailed his palms along the sides of Metal's face.

"You've not repaired yet, Mets. Maybe you should sit this out. I'll protect you, I promise."

Metal cupped Sonic's hands to his face and gave him a small nod. "I shall do what I can but please be careful, Sonic."

Eggman bowed his head, his hands behind his back. "You two truly have no idea how pathetic you are, do you? It's no matter though. You won't be around much longer to grovel."

He lifted his hand, his palm facing them. He snapped his fingers.

The ground began to shake with a low grumble.

Sonic didn't flinch; he stood in front of Metal protectively. He was clearly unafraid of the shaking. "'Pathetic?'" He snorted. "Says the guy who's cooped up in his lab all day and can't even beat me with his army of robots."

The shaking grew more severe.

"It's called work discipline, Sonic, but you wouldn't know. Dogs have no sense of product management."

Eggman chuckled and continued. "I don't need an army to beat you, Sonic. Not with my greatest creation yet. I should introduce you."

Without another word, Eggman stepped to the side. Behind him, the shaking began to tremble the nearby buildings.

The sound of steel scraping against the ground, like nails on a chalkboard, filled the park. The grating grew into a cacophony of screeching footsteps.

It was then Metal saw it: the mechanical beast. It was exactly Sonic's height, although slightly greater in bulk. Sharp claws jetted from its paws, and enormous fangs sprouted from its steel jaw. Piercing, red eyes, brighter than Metal's own glowed ominously from its head.

"Meet Metal Werehog!" Eggman boomed.

Sonic stared. He blinked at the robot, who didn't blink back at him.

Then Sonic laughed. He covered his mouth, unable to hide his snickers. While Metal was frozen in place, Sonic seemed nothing but amused.

Finally, he stood straight. "You really _are_ obsessed with me, aren't you, doc? You get rid of your best robot, and then it's what, a _month_ before you've already got another one that you again styled after me?"

He scratched his cheek, feigning innocence. "Actually, that must be why you sent Metal away, huh? You were jealous he got to spend time with me." Shrugging, he added, "If you wanted a sleepover that badly, you could've just asked."

After a moment, the innocence dropped. Sonic shot the doctor a wicked smirk. "But let me tell you, Egghead. That 'bot there can't compare to the original."

Sonic turned to Metal, a fond smile on his face. "And since I'm talking about you anyway, Mets..."

Sonic pulled Metal just slightly closer. Casting a devious gaze towards Eggman, Sonic dared to place a _kiss_ right on Metal's cheek.

Despite a hint of spite to Eggman, there was also clearly a more genuine emotion behind it.

Fondly, Sonic said to Metal, "Don't waste anything on this hunk of junk. He's not like you. I can't sense a thing out of him. He's just another boring, old robot, and I told you what I do to those."

Turning away without so much as catching Metal's reaction, Sonic faced Metal Werehog with a battle stance, ready for action.

Metal simply froze, his optics wide with a unique mixture of shock and excitement. He rubbed the side of his face where Sonic had kissed him.

It was still warm.

Eggman seemed utterly nonplussed. "Boring, old robot? Come now, Sonic, this just proves your ignorance."

He stepped up to the Metal Werehog and tapped on the robot's chassis with the back of his knuckles. "You do know I've been working on this machine for as long as I've been plotting this whole scheme?"

That caught Metal's attention.

"Wait, doctor, you what?" Metal shook his head, a semblance of reality returning to his circuits. "But that was before you had even—"

Metal looked to Sonic then back to Eggman.

The implication was obvious.

"Then you had been working on it _before_ I had even fled your lab?" Metal whispered. "That was why you wanted me—"

Eggman stood utterly still, his palm resting on the robot. "You had parts I wanted for my greatest creation, and anyway, what's the harm in that? It wasn't like you had ever _actually_ done your job."

Sonic didn't even bother to turn fully to Eggman; he only his tilted head. "Let's get one thing straight here, _doc._ You and your junk heap over there don't even come _close_ to me and Mets. I can even tell just by looking that you didn't even give this one a mind of its own."

Smirking, but seething that Eggman treated Metal so terribly, Sonic turned to face him. "What? Can't get robots to do what you want unless they're braindead? I mean, I guess you're just planning ahead considering how dead I'm about to make the rest of 'em, but you're giving up early, aren't you?"

Metal turned to Sonic, his own arms folded tightly against his chest. What Sonic said was true. Metal had doubted the authenticity of his own emotions in the past. After all, how could he ever be sure if what he felt were true emotions or his own programming?

But Sonic was now an empath. If he said Metal had real emotions, then it just had to be true.

Metal took a step toward Sonic and set his hand on Sonic's shoulder.

"Thank you, Sonic. You do not know how much that means to me," he whispered.

Sonic glanced back at Metal, all the anger fading away once again. He smiled. "Hey, I'm just telling the truth."

He paused then chuckled. Without effort, Sonic lifted Metal into his arms and carried him away a safe distance. Upon setting him down, Sonic raised Metal's chin so their gazes could meet.

"Now you gotta _promise_ to stay here, alright? Gotta pay Egghead interest for interrupting what I was gonna say."

"But Sonic, what if the new robot is too strong? What if you—"

Eggman could clearly overhear everything because he picked that moment to taunt them. "What's the matter, ol' Metal Sonic? Afraid you're too weak to beat the newer model? But of course, that's a logical fear. You are built with planned obsolescence after all."

Metal looked down at the ground, his fists tight.

"Nah!" Sonic interrupted, turning to face Eggman. "Mets could handle you all by himself if he wanted, but in case you forgot, Egghead, you damaged him when you were trying to scrap him for parts."

He put a hand to his muzzle, feigning thoughtfulness. "Which it looks like you failed at pretty bad. Had to lure him all the way back to your lab 'cause you knew Metal would've been too strong for any of your normal bots to get, huh?"

A devious smirk crossed Sonic's face as he massaged one of his shoulders. "Plus, I want to deal with you all by myself. I'm gonna beat you and your lousy robot into the ground using what you did to me."

After everything they had been through, it was moments like these that reminded Metal of just how much he loved Sonic.

"Be careful, Sonic," Metal said, "and...thank you."

Eggman lifted his hand. "Enough chit chat. Your procrastination has gone on long enough!"

He thrust his hand outward. "Metal Werehog! Attack!"

The machine lunged forward. Its sharp claws tore into the ground with terrible speed, and as it thundered toward them, the sharp whirl of steel sounded like the baying of hounds.

Sonic scoffed. "You were always style over actual _fight,_ Eggman."

He readied himself then charged forward as well, making some distance between himself and Metal. Just as he and Metal Werehog were about to clash, Sonic raised a hand and launched a fist at it.

Sonic's fist shot through the air like a bullet. The Metal Werehog lurched to the side, and Sonic's fist grazed past it.

"Seems your speed has left you, mutt. And your wits too! Metal Werehog, he's open! Attack!"

With a single, harsh screech, the Metal Werehog sped forward, its mouth wide. Its fangs glistened bloodred in the setting sunlight.

It closed the distance and sank its fangs into Sonic's forearm.

Sonic hissed. Even from this distance, Metal could tell the injury would need medical attention.

Yet somehow Sonic kept on his usual cocky smirk.

"Heh, so your robot was too afraid to let me hit it? Sounds like it's a little more fragile than you were letting on."

In a swift motion, Sonic's hand grasped at the Metal Werehog's neck. With a confident chuckle, Sonic added, "And like _you_ can talk about being open to an attack."

Immediately, Sonic applied pressure, unafraid to try sinking his near-unbreakable claws into the robot's armor.

Steel crunched, and the Metal Werehog began to tremble under the force of Sonic's attack.

But Eggman himself was unphased.

"Activate electric field!"

There was the sound of a spark, then another, then the loud buzz of electricity as the Metal Werehog's chassis began to hum and glow.

Sonic barely had time to blink as he was charged with electricity. He yelped, releasing his grip on the bulky robot and stumbling back. He managed to get his arm free at least, although he worsened the wound in the process.

Nevertheless, Sonic laughed it off, even as his fur was turning red with blood. "You get bored on the sidelines, Eggman, giving commands like your 'bot's a dog with tricks? He wasn't listening before; you gotta tell him to dodge too?"

Eggman tried to keep his composure, but it was clear from the way his brow furrowed that Sonic was getting on his nerves. "Big words coming from someone who's been hit by every attack."

Metal could only watch in horror. Sonic's fur was thick and matted with blood, and even though he was acting witty, Metal could still see the exhaustion in the heavy breaths Sonic took.

"Metal Werehog—you know what to do!" Eggman shouted.

Without a word, the Metal Werehog leaped into the air.

Metal's calculation was quick. "Sonic! Run forward! Do not try to dodge!"

At Metal's command, Sonic dashed forward. "What can I say, Egghead. _You're_ the one who made me so bulky. Thanks for that, _by the way._ "

Metal Werehog came crashing down exactly where Sonic had stood. As it landed, it thrust its arms out and jettisoned steep, electrified punches in both directions.

If Sonic had dodged to the left or right, he would have been hit.

Metal released his tightly balled fists. Sonic had at least avoided that strike.

And yet, for the first time in the fight, Eggman screamed with rage. " _You!_ "

He pointed at Metal, his brows furrowed and his teeth bared. "You never cease to be a thorn in my side. Will you just die already?"

He stomped his feet and, after taking a deep breath, he said in an unnaturally cool voice, "Metal Werehog! Ignore Sonic! I want you to _kill_ the traitor!"

It was then the Metal Werehog started to charge at Metal. The fight immediately became less abstract, less theoretical when Metal saw the mechanically beast tearing up the very ground beneath its feet as it came for him.

Metal did the only thing he could do.

He threw his hand over his own head in a futile gesture of defense.

Then came the sound. Not of steel against steel, but of steel against skin, followed by an angry yelp.

Metal looked back just in time to see Sonic skidding across the ground, leaving a trail of red from his wounded arm. He had somehow outrun the steel monstrosity that was Metal Werehog, only to get hit himself in the process.

The sudden change in Sonic's speed became clear to Metal from Sonic's more ruffled fur and sharper nails. As Sonic rose, he shook his head, his eyes fading from their feral state to their normal green.

"H-heh, I don't need this to beat you," he said, although his voice was shaking from the pain of his new injury.

He ran on all fours to be in front of Metal, still facing the Metal Werehog. He asked Metal gently, "You okay?"

It took Metal a few dozen clock cycles to recalibrate his sense. He held his hand out, gently touching Sonic's shoulder.

Hot and sticky blood oozed over his fingers.

"Sonic," Metal whispered. "You are hurt. But you saved me—"

Metal clenched his fist, his gaze solemn. He wished he could do something, anything to help. At this rate, Sonic was going to lose.

But what could Metal do if he couldn't fight?

The Metal Werehog wasted no time. It charged again at Sonic, its electric aura popping.

Sonic glared, then ran at the Metal Werehog, unafraid of the consequences. Even if the Metal Werehog tried to get around Sonic, Sonic seemed determined to keep it away from Metal. Thus Sonic intentionally clashed hands with the unnatural beast and took the force of electricity.

He growled. "D-don't think I'll let you l-lay _one hand_ on Metal," he said, fighting back against the shocks.

He winced, clearly feeling the effects.

"Sonic, no!" Metal jolted forward but stopped himself. There was just nothing he could do, not until he was fully repaired. This new robot would electrocute Sonic, and Metal would just have to watch helplessly on the sidelines.

He looked down at his palm.

_Lay one hand_.

His optics grew wide as his processors spun up the memory.

"Wait, that is it! Sonic! Channel your aura!" Metal shouted.

"M-my—" Sonic didn't seem to understand why Metal was giving that command, but nonetheless seemed willing to follow.

Despite the electricity, Sonic readied himself and let out a roaring howl that echoed throughout the Entrance Stage.

Metal could see the effects immediately. The wisps of energy were back, flaring around Sonic's form like a fire. Already Metal knew what was going to happen next.

That energy was there to protect Sonic, and while it protected a vulnerable Sonic normally, it still needed to be channeled for Sonic to access it in a battle.

And access he did.

The wisps charged forward, wrapping around the Metal Werehog's arms like pythons ready to strangle their prey.

This Metal Werehog was a fool, Metal thought. It didn't even seem to notice.

The wisps dug into the Metal Werehog's armor like a drill, although an outside eye would never notice the energy had a pattern to its movements.

But if there was one thing Metal could recognize, it was a pattern.

Eggman recognized it too, or at least he recognized that his machine was malfunctioning. "Metal Werehog! Break it off! Regroup!"

But the doctor's words were futile. The Metal Werehog was mindless, and it had no will of its own. It made a weak shudder as if it were attempting to break away. But the tendrils were closely wound to it, sucking away its power.

Without so much as a whimper or a shudder, the machine's eyes flickered off. It slumped over with nothing else but the dead stare of a corpse.

The energy faded. Sonic panted with pained breaths.

Then Sonic grasped at the motionless Metal Werehog. The steel crunched under his grip. Letting out a yell, Sonic spun, throwing the Metal Werehog all the way across the Entrance Stage. It had nearly collided with Eggman but was a few inches off.

Sonic made his way towards Eggman, staring at the man with a hard gaze.

The doctor simply stared at his broken machine. His face was filled with the kind of regret a child experienced when discovering his favorite toy was broken.

Then he saw Sonic and his expression melted into one of pure, unadulterated fear.

He took a step backward. "Y-you'd better keep away from me if you know what's good for you, Sonic! I have robots! I have more robots than you can count!"

"Yeah, no."

In a sharp motion, Sonic grabbed Eggman's wrist, casually pulling the doctor behind him, right to the ground and next to Metal Werehog.

"You're gonna stay _right there,_ " Sonic said with an unspoken warning. "Thanks to you and your little experiment, doc, looks like I've grown up a little. I've let you hurt this planet too many times, and this time, you're not getting away, especially not after trying to kill Metal."

Feigning awe, Sonic added, "Didn't know I had a line to cross, but you found it, Eggman. Guess that's the one impressive thing you've done in your life, huh?"

Finally looking back at Metal, Sonic shouted, "Mets, you can make calls, right? Get someone to pick this guy up!"

Sonic glared down at Metal Werehog then scoffed, "I'll drop _this guy_ off in the nearest zone. I heard the buildings in Skyscraper Scamper are pretty darn tall. Maybe Mets can figure out the exact amount when we see how long it takes for this hunk of junk to hit the ground."

Metal walked up to Sonic's side. Eggman looked unusually pathetic laying on the ground. Dr. Eggman, the greatest scientific genius in the world, was no more powerful than a child when his toys were taken away from him.

Metal tapped the side of his head, pulling up the police radio frequency. "Consider it done."

He turned back to Sonic again, resting his hand just above the injury on Sonic's forearm. "You saved me."

"Who saved who now?" Sonic asked. " _You're_ the one who told me to unleash my energy."

Sonic reached a hand towards Metal, paused, then chuckled sheepishly and looked away. "I'd, uh—you know—but I'm kinda...messed up and dirty from that fight."

"Please." Metal offered Sonic his hand. "I would like to thank you properly."

"Hm?" Sonic blinked but held Metal's hand gently. "Thank me _properly?_ "

"Yes." Metal pulled Sonic's hand close into his chest and held it carefully as if it were a delicate piece of art. Then, without saying a word, he pressed his muzzle to Sonic's hand with a delicate, electric kiss.

"Thank you," Metal whispered. "For everything."

Metal honestly hadn't known that Sonic's face could so quickly turn pink. Sonic laughed, covering his face at first, then lifted Metal up with the arm that wasn't red with blood.

"Sorry. Now I can't help it, Mets," he said softly, nuzzling Metal with a rumbling purr. "I should be the one thanking _you._ "

Metal leaned into Sonic's nuzzle, sinking into the fur and muscle along Sonic's chest. "Then I guess we will have to call it even, will we not?"

Eggman coughed loudly. "Esh, take me to prison already if the alternative is this."

As if on cue, the sound of police sirens filled the Entrance Stage.


End file.
